The Completely Original Fairytale
by Quirkyalice
Summary: Bella isn't your average princess, in fact, she's more of an average girl. But her father, the King, has plans for her that don't really fit into what fate-or a witch-has in mind. OOC BXE, AXJ, RXEm.
1. Chapter 1Once Upon A Millionth Time

**Disclaimer: All things Twilight belong to Stephenie Meyer!**

**This is a new story idea, but don't think it means I'm neglecting Showdown! (I'll get the next chapter of that up as soon as I can!)**

**Anyway, let me know what you think of this and if it's worth continuing with.**

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**Chapter 1 – Once upon a Millionth Time**

Once upon a time—or should that be for the millionth time upon a time?—there was a princess, or rather a girl who lived in a castle. It's always easy to get the two mixed up. Princesses, by the rule of fairytales, are considered to be beautiful, well-mannered and above all else, be unable to do anything for themselves. Well, two out of three isn't bad.

Our princess, or rather, girl who lives in a castle, was called Bella. She was a pretty girl, with brunette locks and large, brown eyes. At this point in time, she was sat in the dining hall, opposite her father.

"What do you think about that?" shouted King Charles from the other end of the long table. It was completely impractical for them to sit at opposite ends, but it was seen as good manners to face someone whilst eating, rather than sitting next to them and turning ones head.

Bella heard little of what her father had said, mostly because he was far enough away that a cell phone was needed, but this was once upon a time—or a millionth time upon a time—and cell phones hadn't been invented. People had to make do with tin cans and shouting.

"What?!" Bella shouted back. She looked down at the food in front of her and pushed away the plate. It was meat-based, and she was a devote vegetarian. It was the only thing she believed in.

"I said, 'What do you think about that?'"

"I'm sorry, what?!" Bella shouted again. From the distance, her father looked like an ant...or close to one.

"What?!" shouted King Charles back, his friends called him Charlie.

Bella sighed and stood up, realising that they were going to get nowhere. She was also extremely intelligent, which was rare in royalty—especially when much inbreeding took place to keep the majesty in the family. King Charles had married an ordinary girl, against his father's wishes, and said ordinary girl had left the village as soon as Bella was born. That was seventeen years before the current shouting match.

As soon as Bella started to walk, the shuffling sound of feet caught up to her. Attached to those feet were legs, a torso, arms and a head—all belonging to Mike Newton. He was currently playing the role of the waiter. He ran past Bella and grabbed the chair next to King Charles, who looked startled by the display. Mike then pulled the chair back for Bella. She might have been breaking one rule, but that didn't mean she had to break all of them.

Mike Newton bowed and moved back into the shadows, as though he wasn't even there in the first place.

"As I was saying," said the King, "You are now a young woman, and it is becoming on you."

Bella blushed and looked down at her hands. She wasn't used to compliments, and when she did get them, she was very modest about them. It was a rule.

Charles continued, "But what would be more becoming, my lovely, would be if you were to get married."

Bella's head shot up so she was looking at her father in the eyes. He had a light smile on his own face. Bella tried to straighten out her features, and eventually settled for a look of mild horror as opposed to complete horror, both of which are very hard to distinguish. Her hands were also shaking in her lap and a gasp from the shadows made both Bella and King Charles turn.

Mike had fallen to the ground, but he'd done it in a way that wouldn't dirty his clothing and probably didn't hurt when he fell. He was now unconscious from what Bella could see, and she saw no reason to check if he was okay.

"Anyway, dearest Bella, I think this is a very important subject and I've arranged a ball."

King Charles took Bella's increased shock and open mouth differently to what Bella had hoped for.

"Don't worry, my lovely, I've arranged it all,"—by that he meant the maids, the cook, the servants and Bella's grandmother had arranged it—"I've chosen the bachelors myself,"—he really had—"And I think you will be impressed, my dear."

Bella dropped her head into her hands and started crying. King Charles smiled.

"I knew you'd think it was wonderful, my lovely," he said, before snapping his fingers, scraping his chair ceremoniously against the stone floor and sweeping out of the room, his robes following a few seconds later.

Bella lifted her head. Her alabaster complexion was now tainted with red blotches and the remnants of drying tears. She un-balled her fists and stood up, knowing that all crises were best dealt with in ones bedroom.

Mike Newton remained on the floor, where he woke a few hours later, unattended but none the worse for wear. It was expected that servants would be left to deal with their own injuries. He picked himself up and scurried off, forgetting the news that had caused him to faint. He had a memory like a goldfish did Mike.

Back in her bedroom, Bella was lying on her bed, staring at a self-portrait. Her father had commissioned for it to be painted on her sixteenth birthday, and it looked just like her—except for the higher cheekbones, fuller hair and the fact that 'painted Bella' was larger in the chest-regions.

She sat up suddenly, looking at her youthful face and carefree nature—although how she saw that from a painting, we'll never know.

How I wish I could be that girl again, she thought. Now she was faced with the biggest dilemma of her life. She was to get married and the thought filled her with dread. She liked her life how it was, sewing tapestries, going out in her father's coach and secretly, visiting a peasant boy.

Fresh tears ran down her cheeks as she thought of that. She would never be able to look him in the face if she married another. But suddenly, with our Bella being extremely intelligent, an idea came to her. She didn't know where it came from, but the important thing was that it was here now, and she had it.

A smile stretched her lips and she wiped her eyes with the cloth of her dress. It was a white dress that had faded to a slight grey colour, like all white clothes do when they are washed—unless there is whitening washing powder, which has yet to be invented. When Bella stood up, the dress reached her ankles and it was fairly plain. It was the perfect thing to wear to visit her beloved, because no-one would notice her, not if she wasn't wearing a crown or a fancy dress or being taken around the village in a carriage.

There was a knock on the door that caused Bella to jump and touch her chest. Her heart was beating erratically.

"Who is it?" she asked politely, although there weren't many people who it could be.

"Jessica, Miss," said the voice. Bella let out a deep breath.

"What is it, Jessica?" asked Bella.

"Clean linens, Miss, and I thought that maybe you might want to talk about...the...um...arrangements, Miss."

Bella opened the door and said, "Put them on the dresser."

"Yes, Miss."

"And please stop calling me Miss," she said. She'd known Jessica since she was a small child, and didn't like how her friend had started addressing her so formally.

"Yes, M—I mean, yes, Bella." Bella sighed and walked over to the window.

The window looked over the forests, with its green, lush trees and meadows full of spring grass. Bella wished that she was walking through those forests right now. She always found that the air was a better anti-depressant than anything the apothecary could provide for her—although she did find herself visiting the apothecary often, but for much different reasons.

"The bed is made, M-Bella," said Jessica after a few moments, snapping Bella out of her haze.

"Oh, thank you," she replied and went back over to the bed, where she sat.

Jessica stood looking nervous, until Bella told her to sit down and relax. She did this instantly.

"How do you feel?" asked Jessica.

Bella raised an eyebrow. "I'm fine."

"Pardon me for saying, Miss, I mean, Bella, but that does not seem to be the case."

Bella opened her mouth, closed it, then opened it again. "It is up to me to decide what the case is, Jessica, not you."

"Sorry, Miss, I know my place." Jessica suddenly looked like a puppy that had been kicked. Bella sighed.

"I didn't mean it like that. Sorry, I'm just anxious. I don't want to go to this ball, and I don't want to get married. I'm fine how I am."

"But that is what you're supposed to do. You're a princess. You're life is about getting married and going around in carriages and looking pretty in big dresses."

"Well, maybe I don't want to be a princess then," snapped Bella. "Maybe I want to be an ordinary girl."

Jessica gasped and gestured the sign of 'the lord almighty' before she looked at Bella again.

"I don't want to go telling you how to live your life, Miss—"

"—Bella," interrupted Bella.

"Bella," corrected Jessica. "I don't mean to go telling you, like, but shouldn't you listen to your father and marry someone? There is some really handsome looking..."

What happened next was something Bella wished didn't, but like everyone, she suffered from a sudden case of verbal diarrhoea.

"I don't care if there are any nice men there because I already have—I mean I'm not interested."

She hadn't fooled Jessica, and she wished for once she was having this talk with Mike.

"You mean you...You haven't...That isn't how a princess is supposed to...I...Sorry, Miss."

Bella's scowl lasted for a further thirty seconds before she thought of a solution to the problem she had just created.

"Right, well, don't go telling no-one," she said simply.

"I won't, Miss."

"Bella," she corrected again.

"I won't, Miss Bella." Bella sighed and watched the form of Jessica leave the room. She was back where she started—sitting on the bed, looking at her portrait that was like a reflection, almost.

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**A/N: Yes. It was completely irrational and strange. R&R!!!**


	2. Chapter 2 The Witches Journey

**Disclaimer: All things Twilight belong to Stephenie Meyer**

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**Chapter 2 – The Witches Journey**

"You do realise," said the witch as she put out a saucer of milk, "that you, Sooty, are the luckiest cat in the whole Kingdom of Forks."

Sooty stopped licking himself and looked up at the witch in disdain, like most cats do, regardless of how well you treat them. Witch Esme took this as a good sign and went over to the door. Witches were known psychics, as well as being good at a host of different spells. A second later, there was a soft tapping noise of the door. Esme opened it slowly, coming face-to-face with her son, Edward.

"Well, well, well," she said.

"Hi, mum," said Edward in response. He was taller than she and had muscles bulging underneath his t-shirt.

"You're looking more like your father—mayherestinpeace—everyday."

Edward had the courtesy to look embarrassed.

"Anyway," continued Esme, "What brings you to see your mother?"

"I thought you'd know that."

"Well, just because I'm a witch, it doesn't mean I'm going to use magic for every little thing. Not using magic is harder than using magic. It's more important too, but you've never had an interest in what your mum does, have you?"

"No, mum," replied Edward. Esme put her hands on her hips.

"I suppose you better put the kettle on, then," she said sternly.

"Yes, mum," Edward said as he moved through the kitchen and reached the stove.

"And make sure there's plenty of sugar."

"Yes, mum."

"And Edward?" asked Esme. Edward stopped and turned to face her.

"Yes, mum?"

"We'll have a nice chat about that princess too."

Edward dropped the spoon he was holding. It clattered to the floor.

As a witch, Esme always got given gifts. She helped the villagers for free, but they respected her and felt that it was important that she got enough to survive on. She got plenty more, too.

"W-what princess?" Edward asked, trying to keep his voice from shaking.

"Oh, don't lie to a witch, boy. I might be against using magic on a par, but I still have eyes." Esme sat at the wooden table and drummed her fingers steadily as she waited for Edward's reply.

His shoulders slouched and she knew she had won.

"Jessica told me of the King's plans."

"Oh, I know Jessica, lovely girl, sends me flowers. Bella's to marry a prince, I believe?" said Esme.

Edward turned again, managing to keep eye contact with his mother.

"Yes..." He looked dejected.

"Well, we'll just have to make sure she marries the right one."

Edward dropped the cup of tea he was carrying, but Esme's arm shot out and grabbed it before it could hit the floor. Hot tea spilled onto her arm. Edward looked on in amazement.

"As I said, she'll have to marry the right prince...and next time you drop something, make sure it's not so close to the cat." Sooty had now moved to the opposite side of the room and was staring daggers at Edward—which he would have done anyway.

Edward was still looking at Esme's hand. It was as if cold water had spilled onto it.

"Does that hurt?" he asked. Usually Esme acted somewhat more normal in front of him. Esme looked down, as if noticing the burn for the first time.

"I suppose it will do later," she said. This confused Edward, but he managed to steer the topic back to where it had been before.

"How do you expect me to stand aside whilst Bella marries someone else?" he asked hinting at anger.

Esme tutted.

"Didn't you listen to me? I said we'd make sure she chose the right prince."

"But—"

"That prince will be you."

Edward's eyes widened. "But—"

"Of course, we'll have to make you into a prince and I'll have to get some help. The ball is three days away, I believe? Maybe less. Hmm, she might not agree to help on such short notice..."

"Mum, you're making no sense." Esme stopped talking and gave Edward a critical look. She stood up and walked over to the cupboard where she kept all of her important things. She pulled out a quill, ink and some papyrus, brought it back to the table and wrote:

Dearest Alice,

It is Esme. I believe you owe me won. Pleas pack fore a tripp, we iz going to visit an olde friend.

She folded up the letter and gave it to Edward.

"Take this to Alice and when you get back, I want you to pack some clothes or whatever you'll need for this trip." Edward held the note tightly.

"What?!" he asked.

"You love her, right?"

"Yes, but—"

"You want to marry her, right?"

"Yes, but—"

"Then stop complaining and do as you're told."

Edward nodded and walked away, clutching the note that would start a new chain of events.

~*~

Alice had heard a knock at the door and knew exactly who it belonged to. Her short, black hair was sticking up all over the place and her bright clothing didn't suit her title. She was a witch, and as Esme had always told her, witches were supposed to wear black and have big pointy hats so that people knew they were witches. She disagreed, but still used her magic in the same way Esme did.

The brown bottle was in her hand as she opened the door.

"Hello, Stan, I've got it right here." She held up the bottle in her left hand and pointed to it with her right.

"How did you know?" he asked in surprise.

"I'm a witch, I know things," she replied matter-of-factly. She didn't mention that she could see him hobbling down the path, clutching his derrière and leaning on his walking stick five minutes before he knocked.

"Right," said Stan, hobbling into Alice's kitchen. The walls were full of paintings and sketches that both she and Esme had done.

"I want you to take a sip of this morning and night for the next few days."

Stan looked at her suspiciously as he tasted the sweet mixture.

"Is that it?" he asked. "Aren't you supposed to do some chanting and dance around the room naked or something?"

"I did all that before you got here," she said to reassure him. Magic didn't need any mumbo jumbo. Alice knew that most of it was in the head—people called it psychology but she knew it as headology. If people thought it would work, then it usually did.

Sometimes, it did also require a little push. Active reinforcement, she called it. Looking at the way Stan was holding himself, she realised now was one of those times.

As Stan walked towards the door, Alice stuck her leg out. As Stan started to fall, Alice followed, bringing her knee up sharply into his back as she did. There was a click sound.

"What the hell?" said Stan as he got up. Alice brushed down her skirts.

"Sorry, tripped over the cat." Alice knew now was not the time to mention that she didn't have a cat. She didn't have a familiar. They tended to get misplaced under her care.

Stan shrugged and started to walk away. When he reached the garden gate, he was thinking of how the magical potion was already working. By the time he got home, he was walking straight and had discarded his walking stick. He promised to himself that he would take a bottle of mead and a loaf of bread up to Witch Alice everyday for the next week to say thank you.

Alice knew he would do this, and she couldn't help but shake her head. People were more likely to believe in magic than basic chiropracty.

Edward walked up to Alice's door and tapped lightly as he always did. There was the sound of shuffling, a small click and then the squeaky turn of the brass handle before he came face-to-face with Witch Alice.

"Oh, Edward," she said, genuinely surprised. "What brings you here?"

She stepped aside, inviting him in.

"It was Esme," he replied.

"Thought it might be. She gets into everything does she. Needs to know everything as well. Nosey witch."

Edward wisely kept his mouth shut and handed Alice the letter. She took it grudgingly, opened it and read, her lips moving as she did so.

"Oh, and she expects me to drop everything, does she?" Alice asked sharply.

Edward took a step back, worried of what an angry witch might do.

"Who's going to milk the goats whilst I'm gone?"

"Well, I could get Emmett and Jasper—"

"Jasper, you say?" Alice was now interested.

She was usually a confident, over-bearing character, but when it came to Jasper, she lost all hints of her 'witchy-ness'.

"Yes, I'll ask them when I pack." Alice re-read the note.

"You're name isn't in here."

"No, but Esme wants me to come." Alice pursed her lips and got lost in thought—she came back a few seconds later.

"Alright, count me in. I'll need to pack some extra knickers; you know how draughty it can get on long flights."

Edward looked shocked.

"Oh, I suppose you don't."

~*~

Whilst Edward was gone, Esme tended to her hand. She wet a tissue and put it on her hand, finally letting herself feel the pain. She could hold off injuries, but would always have to pay for them. She decided now was the right time to pay for the burn. Next, she washed her hand in some herbal ointment and bandaged it up., knowing it would heal. She then pulled out a bag and packed some essentials.

Essentials consisted of a purse full of money, a loaf of bread, a change of clothes and a map. She then pulled her broom out of the cupboard and brushed off the dust. She doubted it would make the journey, but she hoped it did.

A draft of wind rustled the papers on the table and chilled Esme's skin. Alice was suddenly in front of her. She was dressed in a bright blue dress with bangles and amulets. Esme's mouth set into a tight line.

"At least you're wearing the hat," she said, looking at the pointy blue thing on Alice's head.

"Well, it's like you always say. People have got to know you're a witch."

"Indeed," stated Esme, calming slightly until she spotted Alice's broom.

"What is that?!"

Alice followed Esme's gaze.

"Oh, it's to decorate it."

"It looks like a wind chime." Alice looked at her broom covered in silver bells and she had to agree.

"It twinkles too," she said, giving it a shake.

"How come I didn't hear it before?" asked Esme.

"Because you didn't know."

Esme couldn't argue with that logic. It was like the age-old question:

If a tree fell in the forest when no-one was around, would it make a sound?

Edward chose that moment to come through the door. He had a small bag that looked like it could hold one pair of underpants. He turned to Alice.

"Jasper said he would milk the goats, and Emmett will stock up on firewood for when you get back. He says he owes you after the...thing." Edward's cheeks went red and he looked at his hands.

Alice nodded, but Alice was curious.

"Alice, what thing is this?"

"Well, Emmett and Rosalie have been...you know..." Alice winked.

Esme's eyes widened. "I see. What did you give them?"

"It's a mixture of herbs and other bits I found around the house really. I call it an afro-dee-si-ac."

"Right." Esme turned her attention to Edward. "You're about to get a once-in-a-lifetime experience, son. You're going travelling with witches."

Edward gulped, realising that it would probably be easier to let Bella marry someone else. He could hear the alarm bells ringing in his mind, but he ignored them.

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**A/N: Thank you for last chapters reviews!**

**I had a smidge of time today to do this. R&R!**

**Oh, and a big shout out to Lady Dragona, who I think has stolen my mind and figured out the whole plot...**


	3. Chapter 3 Fire, Spells and Broomsticks

**Disclaimer: Me no own Twilight. Oh, did anyone else hear that SM has decided she is definitely not completing Midnight Sun??? Can anyone confirm this for me??**

**Shoutouts to xparawhorextwerdx and Lady Dragona xxxx**

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**Chapter 3 – Fire, Spells and Broomsticks**

Bella woke the next morning and got out of bed. She went over to the window to look out at the sunlit morning, except it wasn't sunlight she saw, but darkness. She'd woken in the middle of the night.

"Fiddlesticks," she cursed under her breath and got an idea.

She grinned to herself and fumbled on the shelf for a box of matches and a candle. She found the matches, struck one and lit the wick of a candle. She then carried it out into the corridor so that it provided enough light for her to move around.

The castle was scary at the lightest part of the day and creeping around it at night was a lot worse. The emptiness of the castle and the strange chill that came over Bella made her fear what could possibly be prowling such an old castle's corridors at night.

She walked slowly, feeling the walls with her left hand and holding the candelabra in her right.

Suddenly, she stepped on something, and when its claws dug into her ankle, she jumped back and dropped the candle.

The "Maioooow!" let her know it was Sooty, who often came to the castle kitchens for scraps. Bella searched through the darkness for the ball of fluff, but he'd disappeared. She was left alone again, with the smell of burning filling her nostrils.

"Oh no," she said, turning to see the carpet alight.

On instinct, she grabbed the first thing she could—which happened to be a very old tapestry—and she batted it at the flames. This caused the tapestry to set alight, along with her nightdress. Screaming, she pulled it off herself and ran down the corridors.

"Fire, fire! There's a fire!" she screamed at the top of her lungs. Servants ran down the corridor, ignoring her nakedness as they took buckets of water to put out the flames.

The shouting woke King Charles, who came out of his bedroom to see his daughter run past naked.

As soon as she's married, she'll stop behaving like this, he thought, then proceeded to follow the running servants up towards the cause for concern.

Bella, meanwhile, found her way to the kitchens by instinct alone. She filled the sink with icy water and plunged her hands into it. Luckily, it was the only part of her body that had been burnt.

Thinking of her body, it immediately dawned on her that she was naked. She took her hands out of the icy water and tried to cover as much as she could. Her hands were throbbing steadily with pain.

To make her night worse, in walked Mike Newton. He looked at her, blushed, and then said, "Miss, Your Highness, um..."

"What?!" Bella snapped back, trying to hide herself behind the stove.

"You seem to have misplaced your clothes, Miss," he said.

Bella was about to scream profanities at him when Jessica walked into the kitchen with anoher nightdress. She turned to Mike who was still gawping.

"Mike, get out of here now," she said.

"But—"

"Now!" Mike nodded and left, leaving Jessica to help Bella into the dress. Bella then plunged her hands back into the icy water and began to shiver.

"Charlie will kill me," said Bella. Jessica was trying to inspect Bella's hands.

"Oh, I don't think he will do that, he might put you in the dungeon for a bit to scare you...he did that to Mike one day. Put him in a stock. Problem was, it didn't bother Mike. He was asking if he could have a go on the rack...Witch Esme says it was because he was dropped on his head as a baby..."

"That explains a lot," remarked Bella. Jessica smiled and finished her inspection of Bella's hands.

"I think we need to pay said witch a visit." Bella couldn't help but feel the butterflies flutter in her stomach. She knew Edward lived next door to Esme and just being in such close proximity with him brought a shiver that had nothing to do with the cold. It was a shiver of anticipation.

"Get some shoes and a coat on whilst I tell Charlie, I mean, King Charles," said Jessica.

Bella nodded and hurried off up the corridor, ignoring the chills that ran deep into her bones and the throbbing pain in her hands. She started humming to herself. It was to the tune off, "We're off to see the wizard, the wonderful wizard of Oz," except the word 'wizard' was replaced by 'witches' and 'Oz' was replaced with 'Forks'.

When Jessica found her again, she was dressed warmly and followed Jessica into the crisp night. The fire had now been extinguished and Charlie was irate that Bella had used one of the tapestries. Bella was just thankful that she was getting away from the castle whilst Charlie was in such a bad mood.

"Which turn off is it?" Jessica asked as they came to the end of the road.

"This one," Bella said eagerly, pointing straight ahead. She then added hastily, "I visit Esme quite a lot, what with me being so clumsy."

Jessica nodded and they walked through the cobbled streets of the village. Various house lights were on and the strumming of a banjo could be heard coming from one of the houses. Bella smiled, happy that the atmosphere in the castle hadn't penetrated the rest of the kingdom of Forks.

They reached Esme's cottage and opened the black, iron gate before they then went down the path. Esme's lights were out—which was understandable, with it being night. A strange coldness ran through both Bella and Jessica as they knocked the door.

"I don't think she's in," said Jessica blatantly.

"Me neither, aren't witches supposed to do that naked dancing in the woods at night?"

Jessica shrugged. "Maybe."

Sooty had followed them both from the castle and was now meowing and weaving between their legs.

"Esme?!" shouted Bella, but again, there was no answer. Sooty started to paw at the door, and after a considerable amount of effort, the door creaked open.

"Go in," whispered Jessica, pushing Bella forward. Bella didn't usually like asserting her authority, but she was scared right now.

"Jessica, get in there first, I'm Royalty," Bella snapped back, with a capital 'R'. Jessica nodded shakily and stepped into the dark house.

Sooty whipped past their legs and Bella felt around on the ledge close to the door. She knew Esme kept her matches there. She found them and lit a candle carefully, as to not repeat what happened at the castle.

"Bella, there's a note on the table." Bella walked over and picked up the parchment. She handed the candle to Jessica to hold as she read Esme's note.

Your Highnesse, Bella,

I have gone to visit a friend who will solve our problem. Don't worry about any of it. There iz also a bottle of ointement on the kitchhen countarr for the burnz.

Speake Soone,

Witch Esme x

"What does it say?" Jessica asked over Bella's shoulder. Bella scrunched up the note and put it in the pocket of her dress.

"That Esme left me something for the burns," she replied.

"That's nice."

"Yeah, it's a shame she didn't warn me before it happened though." Bella's sarcasm was lost on Jessica.

She put the liquid on her hands and then waited. At first, it stung, but then the pain lessened. She rewrapped her bandages and put the remainder of the bottle in the pocket hiding her note.

They then walked back in the direction of the castle, but were stopped by Jasper, the blacksmith.

"Miss Bella," he said, "Pleasure it is." He took her hand and kissed it lightly.

"Um...yeah..."

"Did you know Witch Alice, Witch Esme and Edward have gone to visit an old friend of Esme's? And so close to the ball too, they might miss it."

Bella dropped her hand. "They have?"

"Yes, Edward told me it was something that had to be done. He said he'd be back for the ball, but I doubt it. He packed two pairs of underpants. You don't pack that much unless it's a long journey..."

Bella felt her heart jump into her throat. "Oh..."

"But peasants ain't allowed in the main ballroom anyway, so there's no point him coming back beforehand, Miss."

Bella regained her composure, although she was disappointed that Edward had found something more important than her. She did tell herself that she was as much to blame. How must he have been feeling about the ball? How would he feel if she married someone else?

"Yes, I don't see the point," she said finally, acting as she thought she should, before bidding him good day—night—and walking back to the castle with Jessica.

"Edward won't be too happy with your attitude...Miss," said Jessica.

"Why should he mind?" snapped Bella, although she felt sorry for Jessica.

"Well, I thought the both of you...you know..." Bella stopped.

"What did you say?" she asked with shock.

"Well, you know with you and Edward...Don't look at me like that...everybody knows...apart from the King, of course..."

Bella found the news too much to digest and the shock of te entire night began to fall on top of her. The world started to fade and she plunged into darkness, fainting unlike Mike Newton as she landed with a thud onto the cobbled steps. Jessica screamed.

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**A/N: Read and review!!!!**


	4. Chapter 4 Trauma and Traps

**Disclaimer: I don't own Twilight.**

**Thank you for last chapter's reviews. Ciara, you are an evil wifey.**

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**Chapter 4 – Trauma and Traps**

"How long has she been...like this?" asked King Charles angrily. He had been replacing the old tapestry when he was called to Bella's room. His anger had already reached its limit. Some believed he loved his tapestries more than his daughter. He was constantly inspecting them.

Jessica shook as two servants walked into the room with extra pillows. She wanted to make up an elaborate excuse, but she knew King Charles would smell the lie—or was that fear and dogs?

"I don't know, she just fainted outside, on the way back from Witch Esme's—"

"Witch Esme's? I dare say she is behind this." Charlie's tone was stern, indicating that witches weren't King Charles' best subject. But like most, he accepted them because, what else could he do? They'd curse his nose off if he put them in the guillotine and despite his hatred of them, they had gained an awful lot of respect from his people.

"Just keep an eye on her...no, two eyes. If she's not awake by tonight, I shall be calling for these witches. They will not destroy my plans." With that, he swept out of the room majestically, leaving Jessica to worry about Bella's current unconscious form.

Jessica grabbed a wet flannel and placed it on Bella's head. Her curiosity made her empty Bella's pocket. There was the letter and the bottle of ointment. The letter made no sense to her, but the ointment did. She unscrewed the lid and took a sniff. She noticed the herbs that had gone into it, and she could also smell the undercurrent of something else. She knew enough about herbology to know that the added ingredient was definitely not safe. It was nightshade.

Her only question then was: why did Witch Esme poison Bella?

Panic filled her mind as she wondered if Bella was dying, but her breaths were coming out in a steady flow and her heart was beating rhythmically. She could only hope that the unconsciousness would wear off. She took the bottle with her as she left the room. If Charlie found it, she was certain he'd have Esme's head for it—that was if he hadn't already signed her death warrant.

~*~

"Mum, do you really think it's safe to be flying so low?" asked Edward. His head just missed the opportunity of being knocked straight off by a branch. Esme was weaving between the trees carelessly.

"No, it's not, but this broom is an old broom and it struggles with my weight, let alone yours."

"Why don't you get another one then?" he asked.

"It has sentimental value," was her reply. He didn't push further.

Edward looked up to hear the "Weeee!" of Alice's voice as she zoomed up into the clouds. The twinkle of bells made the atmosphere seem more ethereal.

"Why am I riding shot gun on this broom rather than Alice's?"

Esme dipped lower and Edward worried that his feet would be knocked off or ground down by the speed.

"Because, Edward, that broomstick of hers is covered in tat and there is no room on it for a strapping fellow such as yourself."

"Can't you just do a bit of hocus pocus on her broom?" Edward thought it was a fair point to consider.

"Alice will curse my ears off if I do that!" exclaimed Esme, narrowly avoiding a thick tree trunk as she veered to the left.

Edward thought for a moment—which was a hard thing to do when you were being thrashed around on a dying broomstick. It whirred like an old engine and smoke billowed from the bristles that were closer to him than he had previously thought.

He knew his mother was competitive and prideful—she was a witch, after all, it was how they were made. He had to play to that side of her if he had any chance of surviving the next five minutes.

"Mum, but you're a better witch than Alice. Can't you just prevent her from cursing you?"

Esme seemed to think on it. "I could, Edward, but I'm not going to give her the reason to even try. We are friends. You do not use magic on friends...especially if they are witches."

Edward ducked at an on-coming bird's nest.

"But what if it's for good cause?"

"Nothing is ever for a good or bad cause, Edward. It's all opportunity." Esme's wise words only ever made sense to her.

Edward sighed and pulled out all the stops he had—there weren't many.

"I bet you can't clean her broom up, that's why you're saying all of this, isn't it?" he asked in false mockery.

"I should curse off your tongue for that!" she said. "I can un-decorate every Christmas tree in the Kingdom of Forks on Christmas day if I wanted to."

"Prove it," said Edward.

"I don't have to. I know I can do it, that is good enough for me." Esme was firm.

"Prove you can un-jingle Alice's...jingle."

"I hope that wasn't one of those in-new-end-o's." Edward suppressed a chuckle.

"You mean innuendo, Mum."

"Just because I haven't had any fancy schooling like you doesn't mean I'm not as good as you..."

Edward didn't listen to the rest of Esme's minor speech as he was suddenly holding on to the handle of the broom by only his hands. His feet skimmed the river that was now below them.

"Mum! Mum, get me up, quick!" he shouted, feeling his hands start to slip.

Esme looked down in disgust.

"Edward, now is not the time to be water skiing, we have a very important mission to accomplish."

"I'm not, Mum, get me up!" he shouted desperately.

"Alice?!" Esme shouted conversationally. As if out of nowhere, Alice appeared on her broomstick. It started twinkling as soon as it could be seen. Alice was smiling and letting the cool breeze blow at her face.

"Have you told Edward that water skiing is bad for his health?" she questioned looking down.

Edward was still clutching the handle like it was the only thing keeping him from plunging to his death in the icy water—it probably was.

"I have, but he seems to think he isn't water skiing, Alice dear." Alice looked at Edward's struggling form.

"Well, he's not doing it well, is he?" Alice said. Edward was exasperated by the pair of them.

"No, he isn't, Alice. You should show him how it's done," replied Esme. Alice smiled.

"No, I prefer broom acrobatics. It's good for the limbs. Water skiing looks so much more...stressful." She deducted this from the look on Edward's face.

At that moment, Edward felt his fingers slip like butter from the broom handle. He was plunging into the water at a rapid pace. He felt like icy daggers were plunging into his skin.

The time, however, seemed to slow for Esme and Alice.

"I think you should get him, Alice. My broom is exhausted already. We might have to make a pit-stop."

"Oh, alright," Alice said with a sigh and plucked Edward out of the water.

"Don't get any water on my bells!" she said as she zoomed towards the clouds.

Edward shut his eyes and grabbed Alice's waist, realising the ride with Esme was in fact the safer of the two.

"Edward!" screamed Alice. He looked up. "Did I say you could grab hold of me like a sack of potatoes?"

"Err, I don't think so," Edward replied sheepishly. There was a tense pause.

"Your hands are still on me," she stated unimpressed.

"Uh, sorry," Edward said, grabbing hold of the broom instead.

As if forgetting the awkward moment, Alice said, "You'll be dry in a jiffy."

Edward didn't know what a jiffy was, but he hoped it didn't hurt.

He had his eyes closed as the speed of the broomstick increased. He could feel it vibrating and his cheeks were flapping with the G-force it had created. He eventually chanced a glance down at Esme, who was maintaining speed with them. The black smoke being emitted from her broom caused him to panic. Then Esme disappeared from sight.

"Alice, something's wrong with Mum!"

"No there isn't, I'm in perfect proportion thank you,"—Alice paused, looking to where Edward was pointing—"Oh."

Alice prepared for an emergency dive. She kicked off the brooms booster and started to accelerate downwards. Her foot was ready to apply the brakes. The dive, however, was making Edward's stomach churn. He was now glad he had passed Jasper's offer of a sandwich before the journey.

Alice crashed through the trees with Edward—and the twinkling bells—in tow. She eventually stopped, her broom hovering a metre from the ground. Edward slipped off the broom and landed on the earth. He was panting heavily and sweat coated his brow. Relief swept through his body. Solid ground had never felt so good beneath him.

Alice dismounted her broom much more gracefully and skipped away through the trees, looking for where Esme had landed.

Edward's thoughts went to what his mother had said about travelling with witches, that it was a once-in-a-lifetime experience. He could understand that now and wondered how many people had died travelling with witches. His mind became full of terror when several faces were suddenly peering down at him.

He was about to shout for help when one of the figures put his finger on Edward's lips. He had a malevolent expression plastered across his face.

"I wouldn't do that if I was you, Sunny Jim." Edward knew his name wasn't Sunny Jim, but he didn't want to argue when he was so clearly outnumbered.

**____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________**

**A/N: Always getting themselves into things...I swear they need me to visit Fairytale land to sort it all out...**

**I had a crap time in London, but now I'm back. You know what would make me feel better? Some lovely reviews...**

**P.S. If you have any suggestions for fairytales I can add into the story, let me know. I've reached chapter 10 and I think I've got them all, but if you come up with one I haven't used, then it will be much appreciated. Thank you.**


	5. Chapter 5 Sleeping Bella

**Disclaimer: All things Twilight belong to Stephenie Meyer!**

**I know this is fast, they seem to be flying out (hopefully not on Esme's broom though...) I'll get the next chapter of Showdown! up as soon as it starts being nice to me again...**

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**Chapter 5 – Sleeping Bella**

"Esme?" Alice asked with concern. She had moved through an opening between two trees and had found Esme's broomstick battered on the ground. At least it had stopped emitted black smoke. Alice was very concerned about the environment and for this reason her broom was more eco-friendly and released 50% less carbon emissions than the standard broomstick.

There was a coughing sound further ahead and Alice found her feet moving on their own accord. When she tapped the shoulder of the figure, she had realised she'd made a terrible mistake.

"Oops," she said, staring at the amber-coloured eyes in front of her. _Esme will never forgive me for mistaking her for something like this_, she thought.

"Oops indeed," replied the figure, his voice a bass growl.

Alice remembered a story similar to the events that were unfolding, but she was sure that wolf didn't move through the woods in a black cape. _Wasn't there supposed to be a girl in a red one? And a granny in a cottage? _Alice held her breath as the clawed hands reached out from under the cloak and slowly went to grab her.

"Wait a minute," she said. The wolf stopped and looked at her. She found it disconcerting to see a wolf staring at her with human intelligence.

"Yesss?"

"Have you eaten Esme?" she asked as her hands went to her hips as they usually did when she was trying to appear more threatening.

"Esmeee?" asked the wolf.

"Yes, Esme. Witch Esme. Esme Mason. There are plenty of other names she's been called too, but she won't appreciate being told them."

"I haven't eaten herrr," said the wolf. He seemed to have trouble stopping at one 'r'.

"Good, then that makes my life easier." Alice kicked the wolf hard where she knew it would hurt and skipped off to find Esme.

Esme was crouched down, talking to a girl in a red cape. _So there she is_, thought Alice.

"So, let me get this straight, you're taking this basket of goodies to your granny?" asked Esme.

"Yes," the girl said defiantly. Alice was already beginning to like her.

"...And she told you to watch out for the Big Bad Wolf?" asked Esme again.

"Mhmm."

"Flippin' 'eck," Alice interrupted.

The girl's eyes widened as she looked at Alice.

"You're a witch," she said plainly to Alice. Alice suppressed a smile and looked at Esme, who, to Alice, looked more witch-like in her attire than she did.

"That I am," said Alice with a short nod.

"My mum said witches are dangerous."

Esme sighed. "Really? And she lets you go into the woods alone where there's a man-eating wolf? Of course, man-eating wolves are a mild threat in comparison to witches," she said dryly. "A wolf would never hurt you, of course it wouldn't." She turned to Alice. "And to think there are rumours going around saying that we eat children! That couldn't be further from the—"

"Well, there was that witch who built the gingerbread house," interrupted Alice, remembering the story clearly.

"Oh, yes, that was Siobhan. She went mad with power towards the end. The children locked her in the oven and roasted her. It apparently took weeks to clean out the oven after that."

"I suppose it would," agreed Alice, but her mind was on the gingerbread house. Her stomach grumbled.

"Excuse me," the red-cloaked girl said.

"Oh, of course," said Esme. "Right, take us to your granny's house. I don't want to leave a sick, old woman in the hands of a wolf."

"Yes, I kicked him in the whatsits but I don't think it will stall him for very long," added Alice.

Esme nodded and they walked through the woods with the girl until they came to the cottage. It was there that Alice remembered Edward. She smacked her head with the palm of her hand.

"Esme, I left Edward in the forest," she said.

"He's a big boy. He can take care of himself. But we'll find him later anyway. Things that you lose always find a way of popping up when you least expect them."

"What if the wolf..."

"Oh, Edward knows how to deal with wolves, Alice." Esme sounded impatient.

"Yes, but he'll—"

Alice was cut off by the red-cloaked girl knocking on her granny's door.

"Wait," said Esme. The girl and Alice looked at her together. "Swap coats and give her your hat, Alice."

Alice looked shocked. "But, Esme, this hat cost me a fortune—granted the fortune wasn't mine to begin with, but I got it specially designed and everything. It even has steel reinforcement in the rim. I thought it was important for flights in case I fell off the broom and landed on my head. I mean, I don't want to turn out like that poor Mike Newton boy who got dropped on his head as a baby..."

"Alice," said Esme.

"Yes, Esme?"

"Give the girl your hat." With a sigh, Alice put on the girl's cloak and gave her hat to the girl. She put up the red hood to hide her face.

"If someone would have told me that the advantage to being small was to act as wolf bait, then I would have been much happier about my appearance a long time ago," remarked Alice as she opened the wooden front door.

Inside, the smell of must and damp hit her senses. The room was dark and the floorboards creaked and protested under her weight.

Light fluttered into the room from the open door and Alice could make out the bed. There was a frail old woman in it. On the bedside table was a jug of milk that now resembled cottage cheese. Alice took a sniff and recoiled in disgust.

"There are cobwebs up the chimney and a bird's nest in the kettle," said Esme as she looked around. "This old lady has been seriously neglected. I'm not surprised she's sick."

Alice muttered in agreement.

"I think we need to sort out this wolf and then sort out this lady," said Esme. "Alice, come outside, I need you to lure the wolf towards the woodcutters."

Alice had forgotten that part of the story.

"What woodcutters?" she asked.

"The one's cutting wood in the forest over west way. You can hear the birds singing about it."

Alice nodded and set off on her task whilst Esme waited with the girl and the sick, old lady.

Alice was feeling a little nervous, which was unusual for her. She was having fun playing what she thought of as a game. But she still worried that the wolf might attack her. _Pull yourself together_, she thought, _are you a witch or a mouse?_

Right now she was neither. She was a Little Red Riding Hood.

She straightened her shoulders and grabbed a tight hold of the basket she was carrying. She wanted to see what food was in the basket, but she had a job to do. The wolf was near, she could feel it like rain beating against her skin.

_Don't turn around._

She skipped on, adding a hum to her steps to make her feel more at ease.

_Where are the woodcutters?_

She listened for the sing-song of the birds and tried to judge how far away from her the wolf was.

_Ah, there's the_ _tweeting tune._

She skipped faster, her voice going higher as she felt the tension around her increase. She moved through an opening in the trees and a figure moved over her.

She screamed and dropped the basket, then she tripped over a branch and fell to the earth. Her red hood flew back, revealing her face.

"Sorry to startle you, Miss," said the woodcutter wearing flannel.

Alice looked up shakily.

"Oh, it's fine," she said, glancing around for the wolf.

_Damn, I've lost it. He knows the plan._

"Can I help you with anything?" asked the woodcutter.

Alice paused. "Well..."

At that moment, a shadowy figure emerged from the trees behind the woodcutter. Huge claws reached out and grabbed for the woodcutter's shoulders. His axe was still in his hand. He swung it with precision and hit the wolf. The wolf crumpled to the ground, blood covered the axe and pooled beneath the cloak that surrounded the wolf.

The woodcutter turned back to Alice unfazed.

"We've been after him for a while. He has a reputation for eating young girls in red capes." The woodcutter looked at Alice. "You would have fit his victim profile perfectly."

"Thank you," replied Alice. The woodcutter thought she was thanking him for killing the wolf, but she was actually thanking him for categorising her into the wolf's victim profile. She'd never been a victim before. Although there was that one time when she couldn't find the right skirt to go with a new blouse she bought...

"May I ask for your name, Miss?" asked the woodcutter.

"You may." The woodcutter paused.

"Err...right, what is your name, Miss?"

"I'm Alice, Witch Alice." The woodcutter gave her a disbelieving look.

"Aren't witches supposed to have warts all over their faces?" he asked. "You've got perfect skin."

"I know, I know. I can't seem to do anything about it I'm afraid. Even Witch Esme tried to make me a wart-ner but it didn't work."

The woodcutter shook his head.

"Anyway, I'd like to thank you for your help," said Alice. "Would you mind coming to this cottage with me?"

The woodcutter blushed scarlet. "I'm a married man, Witch Alice."

Alice's brow creased in confusion, not understanding what he said. "That is of no relevance, Mister..."

"Sam, my name's Sam."

"Right, Sam. Anyway, there's this old woman who is living in filth and I would like you and your fellow woodcutters to build her a new cottage and give her enough firewood to last her for the next five winters."

Sam scratched his head. He knew that if you helped someone, they then owed you a favour, but this was a witch and he realised witches did things differently.

"Alright then, Witch Alice, lead the way." She did, and when they reached the cottage, Esme was waiting expectantly.

"Well, well, well, if it isn't Mr Uley," remarked Esme. Alice widened her eyes and looked back at Sam.

"Miss Esme, it's been a while," he replied under Esme's scrutiny.

"How is Emily?" she asked.

"Emily is doing well. Her scars healed perfectly thanks to you, and now she's gone to the Kingdom of Hollywood to pursue her lifelong dream."

"Right, anyway, is the wolf dead?" Esme asked, not one to beat around the bush. She just wacked it square in the face.

Alice interrupted, "Yes, Esme, it's dead. Sam here saved my life."

Esme's eyes narrowed. "Witches do not need their lives saving, Alice, we saves our own lives."

Alice shrugged and walked further into the cottage in search of her hat. The girl was sat at the bottom of her granny's bed talking softly. Alice thought it was sweet, but interrupted nevertheless. She was nervous without her steel brimmed safety and the red cape surrounding her was much too showy for even her.

"Thank you for killing the wolf," said the girl.

"I didn't kill it, that woodcutter did and he said he'll build your granny a new house and give her firewood." The girl's face brightened.

"Witches aren't supposed to act like that though," she said in confusion. Alice was about to reply that witches acted how they wanted to act and they didn't follow any stereotyping, when Esme's voice became louder.

"You listen here, Sam Uley, I'll curse off your toes and make your tongue go black if you refuse to help this old woman!"

"But it will cost—"

"I don't care how much it costs, you will do it. Anyway, you'll never be able to earn money again if I curse off your fingers and isn't that wife of yours earning more than an average wage where she is?"

Alice tuned out and turned back to the girl.

"I suppose some of us are mean when we want to be. We're just people really...with steel brimmed hats."

After all the necessities had been completed, Esme and Alice set off back to where their broomsticks were. Esme's broomstick was in dire need of attention and Alice had promised to take a look at it. One thing that was bothering Alice as they walked was that Bella hadn't tried to find them yet. She had seen the note Esme had written and in her visions, she had seen Bella getting lost in the forest as she tried to find them.

She asked Esme about this.

"I saw those visions too, Alice, but I intervened. Bella won't be going anywhere until we return."

Alice didn't like the sound of that.

"What did you do, Esme?" she asked sternly.

"I gave her something to help her sleep. I mean, she did wake up in the middle of the night. She must suffer from that thing...amnesia."

"I think it's called insomnia," replied Alice. "You gave her sleeping potion?"

"Yes," Esme admitted. Alice let out a gasp.

"But you know how dangerous sleeping potions are, Esme. Do you remember that Witch Maggie? She sent the whole castle to sleep when she spiked the punch with it. They didn't wake up for a hundred years."

"I remember her, she was Siobhan's sister. I think it runs in the Irish coven's blood does that madness. Siobhan was married to a man called Liam, and before she did that gingerbread trick, she turned him into a frog."

"You mean, like one of those Prince frogs?" asked Alice.

"No, I just mean a frog frog. He lives in a pond outside the Kingdom of Ireland now."

"Ah well, at least he's happy then, can't ask for more really. I'd love my own pond." Esme gave Alice a look that would tell any sane person that they were bonkers.

"Anyway, back to the sleeping potion," said Esme. "I put a time limit on it. She'll be awake in time for the ball, but as a safety measure, I've also added that a kiss will wake her up."

"A Prince's kiss?" asked Alice. Esme pushed a branch out of the way so she wouldn't have to bend down.

"No, that's ridiculous. Just a normal kiss and I'm not making a wall of vines around the castle either. I mean, what sort of witch would think that the perfect Prince would be the one that could chop down a few vines? They might not even be emotionally compatible."

"That's true," said Alice. By now they had reached the brooms. Esme's was a tattered mess and Alice's was hovering above the ground where she left it. Unfortunately, Edward wasn't, but there were footprints in the mud.

"Esme, I think I know where Edward's gone," she said, pointing to the ground.

"Oh dear," replied Esme.

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**A/N: MWAHAHAHAHA! EVIL! Please tell me what you thought of this chapter!**

**Thanks for last chapter's suggestions, if I've not used the idea before then it will be considered and I'll let whoever gave me it know in that chapter! Also, thank you for last chapter's reviews.**


	6. Chapter 6 Wizened Wizard

**Disclaimer: All things Twilight belong to Stephenie Meyer and a dream she had. Sigh. Must have been some dream.**

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**Chapter 6 – Wizened Wizard**

Edward woke up in darkness. He didn't remember going to sleep and he wondered if he was really awake now. He could hear the drip of water and deduced that he was in a cave of some sort. He tried to move his arms but realised they were bound behind his back so tightly that it hurt his shoulders. They had used thorny vines to tie his hands and the constant pricks against his skin made him struggle even more.

His first thoughts went to Esme and Alice, where were they? They were witches and one of them happened to be his mother. Surely they should have rescued him by now?

Then his thoughts went to Bella who was back in the Kingdom of Forks. He was certain that by now she would know that he had left on a gallant mission for her. News spread fast around Forks and he was certain the entire Kingdom would be talking of his departure, or they would still be thoroughly interested in the ball and the guest list. He was certain the paparazzi and reporters were already surrounding the castle, hoping to receive even a snippet of information about the celebrities who would be attending the ball.

He sighed, wondering if he would get to be one of those celebrities, or a mystery celebrity that would cover the front page of the Forks Gazette.

He came away from his thoughts when he heard footsteps. They weren't ordinary footsteps though, they were heavy plods that sounded unlike that of a human. A lantern was cast into the darkness, causing some of the dense blackness to shrink away from the light. Edward squinted himself, letting his pupils adjust steadily. He looked at the face approaching him and recognised it as the face of the person who had called him Sunny Jim.

"You're shorter than I thought you were," he blurted before he could stop himself. It was the truth though, when he had been on the ground, the faces peering down looked bigger.

"You're a wise ass are ya?" he said in a deep voice.

Edward kept his mouth shut.

"There we go, you're learning already," said the dwarf.

"Why am I here?" Edward asked eventually. The dwarf looked at him as though he'd spoken in a foreign tongue.

"Well, err, Mr..."

"Edward."

"Mr Edward, you are here because you were flying on a broom without due care and attention, son. Basically, what that means is that you can't ride on a broomstick unless you are accompanied by a witch and you were alone."

"I wasn't, I was with Witch Alice," Edward protested.

"Never heard of her. Listen, the best thing you can do is shut up and not make any further remarks about..."

"Your size?" questioned Edward. The dwarf gave him an angry look that could have melted polar ice caps.

"We prefer vertically challenged, Mr Edward, it is more PC." Edward nodded and the dwarf started to walk away, taking the light with him. He stopped and turned one last time.

"Oh, one more thing, if this witch isn't here to collect you by tomorrow morning, then we shall put you in the pit."

The way he said it made Edward think that he didn't want to ever go in the pit.

Once again, the dwarf turned and left, leaving Edward in darkness again but now he had something to add to the darkness. That something was fear.

~*~

Meanwhile, in the Kingdom of Forks...

"I mean it, Mother. I will torture those witches if Bella does not come back to me by tonight. The ball is tomorrow night and arrangements will need to be made during the day. I ordered her a special dress from the Kingdom of Paris and Jessica needs to do the dress fitting. Then there's the greetings to be made before the ball and a visit to the people of Forks..."

"Calm down, Charles, concentrate on the arrangements. I shall deal with the catering and I want you to stop thinking so irrationally. Wait until tonight. If she is not awake, we will deal with it then."

Jessica was outside the room, listening intently to what King Charles and his mother were discussing. She heard footsteps inside the room, followed by the sweeping sound of robes. King Charles was coming to the door. She hurried behind one of the hanging tapestries and hoped that he didn't see her.

King Charles went straight past her at a determined gait, not noticing the lump in one of his precious tapestries—which was a miracle in itself. It seemed that he was currently too busy with arrangements to notice Jessica. She snuck out of her hiding place and went back to the kitchen. She peered through the keyhole and watched King Charles' mother cook the food and prepare some of the food for the ball. Jessica knew the reporters were waiting outside the castle gates for any bit of gossip they could find and she decided she could afford to give them something miniscule such as the menu. She was also relieved that they'd only arrived in the morning. If they had come earlier, they would have been aware that the star of the ball—Princess Bella—was in fact unconscious in her room due to a potion made by her lover's mother, who was also a witch.

_If I was a reporter_, thought Jessica, _then I'd make a fortune_. She pushed the thought away. She was loyal to her King, even if she despised him. She would have moved to one of the warmer Kingdoms if it wasn't for Bella. To Jessica, Bella was unlike any princess she had ever met. It scored her points.

Jessica watched Nanny Swan prepare pastries and cakes. It was all she would be doing today. The sandwiches needed filling with meat and the fruit bowls needed preparing, but they were more perishable than the other items and would only start to rot.

Nanny Swan moved over to the centrepiece which was a huge cake filled with chocolate butter cream. She made a mixture that would be piped over the whole thing. She turned her back to the door whilst she was doing this so Jessica could no longer see what was happening, but then she moved slightly and Jessica caught site of what she was doing.

_Rat poison?_ She was putting rat poison in the icing. Jessica felt her heart pounding in her chest and blood surge in her ears. Nanny Swan was going to poison all of the princes, princesses, kings and queens who attended the ball, including Charlie and Bella. Before she could move away, the door was swinging back and she came face-to-belly with Nanny Swan.

"Deary me," she said, "We'll just have to do something about this."

~*~

Monkeys were rare in this part of the world, but even rarer were flying monkeys. Carlisle Cullen—Wizard of the high court of London—was travelling with his friend, the flying monkey. He had not been to the Kingdom of Forks in a long time and had decided that now was the only opportunity he would get for a holiday.

He tapped his staff against the earth and suddenly symbols were apparent on the woody surface. Any person who looked at the staff, however, would not be able to make out the engravings. They moved constantly, making it hard for the eye to pinpoint them.

"I feel no disturbances in the force," he said to the monkey.

"EE, AA," replied the monkey. Its wings were like raven feathers.

Carlisle himself was dressed unlike a wizard. For starters, he wore no hat or cloak and he also didn't have a beard. He personally thought anything over an inch was unhygienic. Instead he wore a brown suit and a cap to accompany his staff. The cap had steel reinforcement.

After deducting that it was safe to continue, he walked on. His flying monkey soared overhead watching for danger as he did.

"EEE, AAA," said the flying monkey, Carlisle was aware that this meant danger was approaching.

"Hi Ho, Hi Ho," was being chanted ahead through the forest. Carlisle knew that the only creatures who could not help themselves from falling into such a monotonous tone were dwarves.

Being a wizard, he had vast knowledge of dwarves and he knew the following things about them:

They sang at every given opportunity.

They lived in the iron mines.

They hated any other race.

So why are they here then? He thought. Before he got the chance to figure it out, three small figures were holding axes up at him. The axes reached chest level.

"This is dwarf territory," said one of them.

"You are breaking the law, sir," said another.

Carlisle gave them a look of confusion.

"I know all of the laws, men, and I believe a wizard may pass through any territory he pleases."

The dwarves looked at him and after a moment of silence, they burst into laughter.

"Wizard, haha."

"We seem to be getting all of them today, Tom," said another.

"That other one didn't look quite so old though. Strange creatures are humans, Garry, they grow older as time passes."

Carlisle was listening into the conversation with intense interest. As a wizard, he had learnt long ago that listening to others was important and that using your wit was almost as important as using your staff.

"Excuse me, gentlemen, but you said you captured another young man today?" He made sure he didn't say the word 'dwarf' as it was seen as racism to call a dwarf a dwarf unless you yourself were also a dwarf.

The dwarf named Garry turned to Carlisle once again, his axe was dangerously close to Carlisle's crown jewels.

"Yeah, he was flying on a broomstick unaccompanied. He's due to go into the pit."

"Yeah, the pit, we're all dead excited. Not had anyone going in the pit for over a decade since those new laws came into effect."

"Yeah, those laws about human rights or something. You'd think we tortured them," said Garry.

Tom paused. "...But we do torture them."

Garry narrowed his eyes at Tom but then turned back to Carlisle.

"We have to take you in, sir," he said politely. Carlisle wondered whether to use magic to escape or assert his authority, but then he wouldn't be able to save the young man from the pit. He nodded.

"Right you are, gentlemen." He put his hands forward and the dwarves handcuffed him before they led him off towards the mines. Carlisle looked up and saw his flying monkey watching the whole scene.

"EEE, AAA!" he screamed. The dwarves shifted on their feet but walked on. They didn't seem to care whether he was mentally stable or not. The flying monkey soared higher but kept on the path of the dwarves. If only for a little while.

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**A/N: At least we know what's happened to Edward now. Who expected Carlisle to be a wizard???**

**Please let me know how this one went!**

**Thank you for last chapters reviews, they were much appreciated!**


	7. Chapter 7 Memories and PseudoMagic

**Disclaimer: All things Twilight belong to Stephenie Meyer. I'm just borrowing her characters...and characters from fairytales too.**

**Thank you for the reviews last chapter! Here's another one!**

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**Chapter 7 – Memories and Pseudo-Magic**

"Dwarves?!" shouted Esme. Her voice was so loud that it made Alice's ears pop.

"Esme?" Alice asked, but Esme seemed to be paying no attention to her.

"Bloody dwarves! To think! The cheek of it!"

"Err, Esme..."

"I mean, we can have their hides for this, Alice," Esme continued, but she stopped when a dwarf tapped her shoulder. She turned, looking straight ahead and she saw no one.

A cough made her look down at the dwarf carrying an axe.

"Well then, this is convenient," said Esme. Alice looked her way and shook her head, as if trying to tell Esme to not cause a scene.

Alice was well aware of how testy dwarves could get. They had a temper that could rival even a vixen protecting its young against attackers.

"It certainly is," replied the dwarf.

"I've been hoping to have a word with you," Esme said, her tone still polite but Alice was also aware of Esme's talent of blowing a fuse out of the blue.

"Words will have to wait, Miss," said the dwarf.

Esme cracked her knuckles. "Wait? You're making a witch wait?"

The dwarf glanced at Alice. "No, Miss, I'm making a woman wait. The witch over there is free to go as she pleases."

Alice held her breath.

"Can you not see my hat?!" Esme shouted in ire.

"It's a lovely hat, but we really are wasting time—"

"—can you see the cloak I am wearing?!"

"It's a nice cloak, black is very slimming, or so I've heard—"

"—do you see the broomstick?"

The dwarf glanced down at the tattered remains of Esme's broomstick.

"That's the one that kid broke. Bill won't be too pleased to see this." Esme tapped her foot impatiently.

"I don't care whether Bill will be happy or not!" Esme shouted. The dwarf looked up at her and shook his head solemnly.

"I'm arresting you for criminal damages, Madam, you don't have to say anything, but anything you do say will be used as evidence against you in court."

Alice's eyes widened in horror.

"Just a minute," said Alice, "But Esme has done nothing wrong. She is a witch, see. The best witch I know."

The dwarf scratched his head. "Well, witches would take better care of their brooms. They don't take things like brooms for granted."

"Of course they don't," agreed Alice. "Esme is very meticulous when it comes to her broom, but nothing we have done has ever fixed it."

The dwarf considered this. "I might be able to get the broom fixed, on the condition that I take Madam Esme with me."

Alice knew this was a trap, but looking at Esme's face, she knew the answer Esme wanted her to give.

"Deal," she said, shaking the dwarf's hand. It became apparent at that moment that she had just signed Esme's death warrant.

Regardless, she followed the dwarf and Esme through the forest. She hid her broom in dense moss before she did and she allowed herself to fall into step with nature. That way, her feet barely made a sound and leaves, branches and obstacles parted in her path. It was one thing she could do that Esme couldn't. She took great pride in this fact. She didn't know any witch better than Esme, but she suspected that Esme had secret gifts that she never allowed the world to know. Spreading knowledge of God-like gifts would eventually get you killed.

The dwarf walked on, his steps like thunderous thuds against the ground. Esme was surprised that such a little fellow could make so much noise, but she didn't air her views. She needed to think of a plan. Usually, Esme hated plans, but right now, a plan was needed. She wanted her broom fixing but she also wanted Edward safe. Both the broom and Edward were dear to her and she just couldn't choose between them both. She also needed a broom if she was to reach her destination.

The dwarf stopped suddenly, outside of a large stone structure that reminded Esme of a large boulder. He knocked once and waited. There was another knock and the opening of a door. A head was sticking out of the boulder looking at Esme.

"Yes?" said the door-dwarf.

"I have a code blue and a code green, Frank," said the dwarf that had led Esme to her current position.

"Right you are, Denny. Take the broomstick through to damages and I'll take this madam to the holding cell."

Denny nodded and the boulder opened to reveal a dark cave. Esme grudgingly handed her broken broom to Denny the dwarf and then followed Frank along a corridor. Candles lit the walls, casting shadows along the stones. Esme lifted up her skirt so she would be sure to not trip over it. She then tried to walk through the cave with some air of dignity.

She now had a plan formulated. As soon as Frank opened the holding cell, she was going to cast a curse on him that would send him into a deep slumber and then she was going to grab Edward and find the damages section.

When the door opened, however, her plan shattered into dust. What she saw before her almost stopped her beating heart.

"Esme?!" the face before her asked. Esme felt the cadence of the voice swirl around her. Blood pounded in her ear drums.

The dwarf pushed Esme into the dark cell and shut the door. Esme could no longer see the figure, but she could make out his outline.

Before the person could say anything, there was a slapping sound that reverberated through the cell walls. It was anyone's guess as to how Esme managed to locate his cheek in the darkness.

"Carlisle, how dare you come here after all this time and—"

"Esme, it's a shame you didn't lose any of your temper in our years apart. You know why I left and I'm deeply sorry that it was the way it—"

There was another slap.

"You're making my life more difficult, Carlisle. If it was Edward in here and not you then we would be on our way to escaping now." Esme put her hands on her hips.

"You mean the man who is trapped here is my son?!" Carlisle's voice had never been so shocked. For a moment Esme smiled. He still held the love and compassion he had before he left, but he had still broken her heart.

She told herself it was because he had no choice, and in all honesty, he didn't. It was either go to Wizard school or burn up with uncontrolled power. She couldn't understand how that didn't happen for witches and she put it down to the fact that witches were women and therefore didn't complicate magic in the way that men did. Esme had, however, expected Carlisle to return after he graduated, but he didn't. He got promotion after promotion until he became the High Warlock and then he found it difficult to find the time to ever come back to Esme and his son.

She slapped him again for luck before she replied. "Of course the man here is your son and it is our job to get him out of here safely."

"But how can we do that?" Carlisle asked. Esme refrained herself from slapping him again.

"Do we not possess the gift of magic?" she asked.

"Of course we do," said Carlisle. He muttered a few choice words and his staff flew into his hand. "Let's go and save our son."

~*~

Alice was outside the boulder, looking at it as though it was not a boulder but something else. Of course, she knew it was something else as she had seen the dwarf enter with Esme.

"Right, you just have to knock," she muttered to herself before giving the boulder a sharp tap. It slid open, revealing a dwarf.

"Hello, Miss, how may I help you? We have a new range of skin cream that arrived yesterday..."

"No, thank you," replied Alice. "Actually, I'm here to pick up my broom."

"You'll be wanting to go to damages. Take the third exit on the right and don't forget to visit the gift shop before the end of your visit."

"I won't," said Alice as she followed the dwarf's directions. She decided damages was the easiest place for her to go. Esme was a witch, after all, and as a witch, Esme would be able to get herself out of a pickle. The least Alice could do was make sure Esme's broomstick was in tip-top condition before she left.

She reached the door that had a wooden sign on it that said, "Damarges," and she knocked on the door. Another dwarf opened the door and led her inside.

He went over to a machine and handed her a yellow ticket. "Just wait for your number to be called out," he said.

Alice glanced at the ticket number. It said number one. She sighed.

"Number one," said a dwarf through a speaker. Alice stood up and walked towards the set of wooden double doors in front of her. They opened with a creak that made Alice wonder if the dwarves had heard of oil or butter.

"Ahh, right," said a dwarf that looked suspiciously like the one that had led her in. The only difference being that he was in blue overalls covered in grease and he held a hanky that had once been white.

"Is the broomstick repaired?" Alice asked. The dwarf looked sheepishly from left to right and tried to avoid her gaze. She caught it eventually.

"Well, we had to change the back panel and there was wear and tear of the handbrake. We had to completely refurbish the exterior..."

"So what are you trying to say?" Alice asked, anger hinting at her polite tone.

"The cost, ma'am, will be extremely high. We think that scrapping the broom and buying one new would be a much cheaper option." Alice gnawed at her lip for a second in false consideration. It was Esme's broom and she didn't need to consider anything. She knew how psychology worked though, so she was doing it to the best of her ability.

"I want the original broom, fully repaired and free." The dwarf gulped.

"But, ma'am, we cannot afford to make such...I mean it's impossible...preposterous..." The words died on his lips as Alice impersonated one of Esme's icy stares.

Another dwarf came over to see what the problem was. He said, "What is the problem?"

This dwarf was dressed in a back suit and Alice pegged him as the manager.

"Just the per—dwarf I was hoping to see," she said in a stern tone. Her hands went straight to her hips.

"Madam, what seems to be the problem here?" he asked.

"Well, Mr—"

"Oliver."

"Oliver seems to think that I'm going to pay for the repairs done to my broom." Alice looked at the manager sternly. He didn't blink, but he looked like he needed to loosen his collar.

"Maybe we can come to some kind of arrangement?" suggested the dwarf who was the manager.

Alice nodded in agreement and he escorted her through the workshop to a small office on the opposite side. When he opened the door, he ushered her to a seat facing a desk, except the desk was a lot shorter in height than desks tended to be and by the time she was sitting down, she felt like she was actually sitting on the floor.

She tried to make herself comfortable, but gave up after a short moment, realising that it was never going to happen.

"Your broom had some serious malfunctions, Miss," said the dwarf.

Alice decided now was the time to draw the Witch card. "That's Witch Alice to you, Sir."

He loosened his tie at long last. "Of course, the hat says it all...Anyway, what I'm trying to say is that we cannot give you back the broom unless you pay for the cost of its repair."

Alice scratched her chin. "Does it matter in what fashion I pay?" she asked.

The dwarf started to blush and coughed. "I suppose it doesn't," he said and coughed again.

"Terrible cough that," she said and stood up, she moved closer to the tiny desk and shuffled round it until she was in front of the dwarf. "I know a spell that can fix it."

She muttered some choice words that she thought would impress the dwarf and waved her hands around in the fashion of a flamenco dancer. She then stopped and looked at the dwarf.

"Can I have my broomstick now?" she asked politely.

The dwarf looked confused and looked around the room, as if trying to find an eject button. When he realised he had never had one installed, he turned back to Alice.

"But you didn't pay," he said.

"I did," Alice protested. "I cured your cough."

"You didn't cure me of my cough," he said with surprise.

"You were coughing before," said Alice, "and now you aren't. Isn't that right?"

The dwarf's eyes widened. "That is true."

"Right then, I'll be waiting outside for the broomstick." The dwarf nodded and Alice bit back her laughter. Psychology had a funny way of making people seem ridiculously stupid.

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**A/N: Send me some love!**


	8. Chapter 8 And then there was Light

**Disclaimer: All things Twilight belong to Stephenie Meyer...No, seriously, they do.**

**Thank you for last chapters lovely reviews. I'm going to do some shoutouts: 1pepsi1obsessed, Lady Dragona, BerryEbilBunny, Mander13 and my cat, Sooty, who tried to sabotage this.**

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**Chapter 8 – And then there was Light**

Jessica woke up and for a moment she wondered if she had died and gone somewhere very dark. That, however, did not make sense to her. She prayed morning and night and followed every rule—even if one contradicted another. She felt that if she died, the place would be full of light, not the other way round.

Then she heard a voice. The voice belonged to someone she knew, and it took a few seconds for her memories to flow back to her. That voice belonged to Nanny Swan, who had put rat poison in the cake icing. She held her breath for a second, feeling her heart start to pound and her lungs protest. She let it go slowly.

"Nanny Swan," she said simply. She was smart for a maid and knew that talking out of line, even in such a terrifying situation, was not something she wanted to do.

"Jessica, you were my favourite, you know. Unlike all of the others and not inbred either. I thought you would know when to keep your place, but you're just like everyone. Screwing up the stories and the destinies they tell. Of course, you will not be able to mess with this story any longer."

Oh, here we go, thought Jessica. Now she will tell me her entire plan and then leave me in here unattended with one arm untied to make my seemingly impossible escape much easier.

"You see, the plan is very simple,"—yes, I was right—"I have a very close friend who has a son who will be at the ball. He will propose to Bella and she will say yes. Then the cake will be brought out and Charlie will eat the first slice and die. That will leave Bella and my very close friend's son to be King and Queen. Then Bella will mysteriously die leaving only the King to rule the Kingdom of Forks. Isn't it a darling idea?"

Jessica almost said yes. Nanny Swan's voice was very compelling when she wanted it to be.

"But what's in it for you?" asked Jessica.

Nanny Swan replied, "Charlie was never my son, he was my step son. But I had a daughter and this daughter had a son."

Jessica felt increasingly lost. "So you got a grandson?"

Nanny Swan tutted. "The close friend is my daughter. I'm making sure that the rightful king takes the throne. I've waited all these years for this moment and it will finally happen."

"But Charlie and Bella. Do you feel nothing for them? You were like a mother to Charlie and Bella adores you. After all these years have you not come to love them as your own? They are your own."

"Silence!" shouted Nanny Swan. The sound echoed through the darkness and Jessica strained against the rope that rubbed her wrists raw. She was beginning to think that her escape would not be so easy after all.

"I'm not the ruthless one, Jessica. My daughter is plenty ruthless for the both of us." Nanny Swan didn't elaborate on this, but Jessica suddenly heard the strike of a match and the hiss of a flame. It spread through the darkness as Nanny Swan lit the torches decorating the walls of the room.

Jessica knew where she was now. She was in the torture chamber. Dried blood covered the floor and walls and there was even a skeleton attached to manacles in the corner. Jessica willed herself not to look, but it was like a train wreck. You don't want to look, but you do. Curiosity quells the terror, if only for a second or two.

Her eyes adjusted to the images in front of her and her ears picked up the harsh sound of metal scraping against metal. Nanny Swan was stood behind a large, wooden table sharpening implements that looked so farfetched that Jessica didn't know what half of them were for. It reminded her of Nanny Swan's kitchen.

Nanny Swan picked up something that looked much like a garlic crusher. Jessica felt her heart rate increase and she suddenly tasted metal on her tongue—the coppery essence of terror.

Nanny Swan put it back down, but Jessica's momentary calmness was destroyed when the glint of a blade was in her sight. Nanny Swan rested the edge of the blade against Jessica's cheek and spoke soothing words, like grandmas did.

"It's alright, poppet, it won't hurt a bit. Shush now for Nanny."

Jessica felt a tear slide down her cheek and she realised that Nanny Swan had some serious issues.

The blade pushed gently at Jessica's cheek—just enough to cut through the skin but not deep enough to leave a permanent scar. The stab of pain was sudden and short-lived but it caused a gasp to bubble from Jessica's throat.

"You've been a very naughty girl, Jessica. I will come back at nightfall to see if you have learnt your lesson."

With her parting message, she dropped the blade to the ground and left the room. The only consolation Jessica had was the fact that she hadn't been left in complete darkness.

~*~

Alice took the broom from the waiting dwarf and thanked them before she hurried out of the room. She was aware that they would realise they had been conned and she had to get out before they realised that fact. She hurried through the corridors, but ended u in front of a kiosk selling souvenirs and ice-cream. Despite being lost, this made her feel a little bit happier. She walked up to the counter.

A dwarf was stood in the counter and was now almost her height.

"Yes?" he asked her without inflection. Alice thought he looked very bored.

"I'd like an ice-cream please," she said.

The dwarf started to inspect his nails and said lazily, "Sorry, no ice-creams."

Alice frowned, realising he was saying that so he didn't have to do any work. He was being ignorant.

"I believe, Sir, that you do have ice-creams." She was staring directly at the '99 maker.

"The machine's broke," he said and suddenly started snoring. Alice sighed and hoisted the dwarf out of the kiosk. She hadn't realised how heavy they were, despite them being small. She dumped him behind some bins and went to manage the kiosk herself. She put the broomstick at the back where it wouldn't be seen and she helped herself to an ice-cream and an extra flake.

Her height made her just short enough to not bang her head on the roof of the kiosk. She sat down and gave her ice-cream all the attention it deserved.

By the time she had licked her fingers clean, there was a long queue of dwarves waiting for various things. She sat up and looked down at the first one.

"I'll have two 99's and a Dwarf Times newspaper, luv," he said.

Alice fluttered over to the ice-cream machine and filled two cones.

"Want any sauces on them?" she asked.

"Chocolate on one and sprinkles on the other," said the dwarf. She gave him the ice-creams and newspaper.

"That will be two fifty," she said. He handed her the exact change.

The next dwarf came up to the counter and gave her a shifty look. He coughed and in a small voice he said, "Twenty Lambert, love."

Alice hesitated, unsure of whether to serve the dwarf. The way he was acting made her wonder if he was underage. She looked at the red writing above the cigarettes.

"I cannot serve you if you're less than one hundred years old, so unless you've got ID to prove that you are, buy some Jammy Dodgers and get out of here."

The dwarf looked down. "I'll just get the Jammy Dodgers then."

Alice grabbed the packet and handed it to him.

"Can I just say, Miss, I think you're like...really fit," he said.

"Thank you," Alice said. "I do work out a lot."

The dwarf gave her a perplexed look and moved off. Alice was about to serve the last customer when she heard shouting that was getting louder. She grabbed the broomstick automatically.

"Get out of the way if you want to keep your important extremities!" shouted Esme, brandishing her pointing finger. The nail on it could have done with being longer, but Alice knew Esme had a terrible habit of biting her fingernails.

There was a man beside her, holding a big, wooden stick. Alice climbed out of the kiosk, but made sure she got a few Cheese Strings before she left.

Esme stopped her shouting as Alice was shoving the snacks into her pocket.

"Alice, what on God's Earth were you doing?"

"I was working, Esme," said Alice.

"It's about time you got a steady job," replied Esme.

Carlisle came forward. "Hello, Alice, it's been a long time." He held out his hand for Alice to shake. She looked at it like an unsure child.

"I don't know you," she said.

"You were only a toddler when I was around," replied Carlisle.

"Oh," said Alice. She turned her attention to the dwarves that were now crowding them, and, for the life of her, she didn't have a clue what to do or say. Witches 101 didn't teach this sort of thing.

Luckily, Wizarding for Dummies did.

Carlisle struck his staff to the earth and the ancient inscriptions lit up and started to move. The ground beneath the three of them started to tremble and Alice found herself grabbing onto Esme for support. Carlisle held Esme's hand in an instant, and before she could protest, she was no longer anywhere.

In fact, none of them were anywhere. They were floating through the planes. Both Esme and Alice were holding on to Carlisle as if they were about to die. In an instant, they were spinning and they dropped to the ground.

Darkness covered everything like moss, it even cloaked their minds. The light seemed to float away until all they saw was hatred, rage and sorrow. Alice crawled away from the other two figures and held her knees to her chest as she began to rock like a frightened child who knew the monsters under the bed were real and extremely hungry. Carlisle had gone still and silent, as if he had become one of the rocks that surrounded the walls. Memories flew over him, but he knew they were not memories, they were 'what if's' that filled him with regret. What if he had come back to Esme sooner? He pictured a young Edward growing up and sorrow pulled at his heart.

Esme was sat feeling disorientated from the journey. Her hands went straight to her head and she felt the point of her hat. She sighed in relief. Sorrow tried to fill her heart, but she pushed it away like it was a feather. Hatred tried to burn her veins, but she swallowed it like nectar. Regret tried to cloud her mind, but it faded to nothing. Sorrow couldn't penetrate her because she'd spent her last tears when Carlisle left her. Hatred couldn't touch her because she knew what hate was and had spent many pointless nights trying to hate her mother for making her what she was and trying to hate Carlisle for leaving her alone. The truth was, she had never been alone and being a witch was who she was. Her mind was set and clear, she knew herself and understood that everything had meaning. It was why the pit couldn't affect her.

She stood up and felt around for Carlisle. When she found him, she said, "You're a wizard, you wouldn't be you if you hadn't left. You didn't miss much, just lots of trouble, really."

"But, you hate me..."

"No, I don't hate you, Carlisle, I could never hate you. You've proved your love by coming back, even if it is a bit late."

Carlisle nodded, and just like that, the spell of the pit was broken. Esme searched for Alice and felt her broom beside her.

"You fixed my broom," she said softly, "What would I do without you?"

"Drink less tea?" suggested Alice, and just like that, the spell of the pit was broken.

"We need to find Edward, he should be around here somewhere. If you feel the darkness again, think happy thoughts," said Esme.

Carlisle lifted his staff and slammed it against the ground. It lit up and he muttered something incoherent that Esme was certain was, "Jam butties, extra bread."

Light suddenly filled the darkness, illuminating Edward's figure lying in one of the corners. He had ripped his shirt of his body and there were scratches on his arms. He was muttering, and as Esme, Carlisle and Alice got closer, they could hear the words he was saying.

"She'll marry someone else, she doesn't care about me..."

Esme knelt by Edward.

"Edward," she said.

"She hates me, I'm worthless..."

"Edward," Esme repeated, sharper this time. Edward looked up, his eyes seemed glazed as he stared into his mother's brown eyes.

With his gaze locked on hers, Esme did something she does rarely, and that was use real magic.

Edward's thoughts changed. His thoughts were now connected with Esme's and she was projecting images into his mind. They were memories she had of Edward and Bella together. Memories that she had got from sneaking around after the, like any concerned parent would.

_They were sat on a meadow, pointing at the birds flying past when Edward said, "Look at that."_

_Bella followed his gaze, strands of her hair becoming golden in the sunlight. One of the clouds was shaped like a heart_.

Esme threw another memory of them in her house baking cakes.

_Bella pulled the batch out of the oven and put them down to cool. She went back to the first batch and started icing them. She then counted them to make sure they were all there. She counted twelve, but there had been thirteen._

_She glanced around, but couldn't see it anywhere. When she turned back to the table, it was set apart from the others and iced sloppily. The words that had been iced on it were clear though. When she picked up the cupcake, Edward was suddenly behind her._

_He whispered, "I love you."_

Esme withdrew from Edward's mind and clutched her broomstick harder. It was a gift that could only be used by those who were certain of who they are, because messing with another's mind could cause their thoughts to rub off on the intruder.

Esme blinked and looked at Edward's eyes. The spring grass colour was no longer glazed. Just like that, the spell of the pit was broken.

Not one for waiting around, Esme said, "Right, how the biscuit do we get out of here."

"I don't know," said Alice, "But does anyone want a Cheese String?"

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**A/N: Alice, Alice!!!! I want one!!!!!**

**Please send me a review. I'd also like everyone to ask me one question, and I will answer it truthfully. It can be about the story or anything else. Seriously.**


	9. Chapter 9 I See You

**Disclaimer: All things Twilight belong to Stephenie Meyer!**

**Here's another chapter. Thank you for last chapters reviews!!!!**

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**Chapter 9 – I See You**

The mirror sat against the stone wall of a castle. Its edges were decorated in gold to give it an air of class. What was different about this mirror, however, was the fact that the person standing in front of it was not being reflected on its surface. Instead, the mirror seemed to have its own mind and its own images to share. Smoke filled the mirror—a grey, almost white colour. It swirled around and finally faded, revealing an image of a kingdom. A dainty finger touched the mirror and the image changed to the castle of the kingdom.

"Let me see through the eyes of thee twin," said the figure standing in front of the mirror. The image rippled and changed to that of a bedroom. Lying on the bed was a sleeping form. Hair spilled across the pillow like brown velvet.

"Mirror, Mirror, on the wall, is she the fairest of them all?" said the figure.

The image faded away and the almost-white smoke swirled into the mirror. It was replaced this time by a white-masked face.

"The girl, my Queen, is not the fairest of them all. But, my Queen, she is fairer than thee."

"Of course she is. Show me who is fairer."

The masked face nodded and disappeared. The image that was now shown was one that was not there. The mirror had not shown anything. The figure screamed in rage and was about to strike the mirror when she remembered that images could only be brought if there was a mirror where the person was. The figure could use her mirror to see what was happening through every other mirror in the universe if she wanted to. Her fist tightened and she turned away.

"Mirror, Mirror, of which I hate, find the one who puts food on her plate."

By the time the figure had turned, there was an image in front of her. It was Nanny Swan.

"Nanny Swan," she called. The fat lady turned to the mirror with a calculated smile.

"So far, so good," she said.

"As it should be. I want no mistakes in this. My son shall be King."

The figure then brought her fist back and slammed it hard into the mirror. It shattered. Shards of reflective glass scattered across the floor.

~*~

"Fine, I'll just eat them myself," Alice said as she looked at the disapproving faces around her. She flounced off to the shadows.

Esme heard a creaking sound followed by a scrape and more light flooded into the room. Alice had just walked out of the pit.

Astonished, she followed, with Carlisle and Edward behind her. She had yet to break the news of Carlisle to Edward, and she was unsure of how it would turn out.

Her moment of wondering was broken by the hoard of angry dwarves in front of them. Two were holding Alice very cautiously as she struggled to keep hold of her snack.

"Stop, in the name of the law!" said one of the dwarves. Esme sighed.

"We want no trouble," said another.

"You won't get any trouble if you just let us go," said Edward. Esme considered whether to slap him over the head but then decided conflict in the ranks would only weaken them.

"Oh, for crying out loud!" Alice screamed as her snack fell to the floor. She stepped forward and tripped, falling to the ground. There was suddenly a mallet fly towards her head.

Esme watched in fascination and held back Edward who was determined to help Alice.

The mallet broke into several pieces of splintered wood and Alice stood up. "Steel reinforcement, can't beat it."

"Get them!" shouted one of the dwarves. Esme found herself pushing Edward and Carlisle through one of the corridors ahead of her. She grabbed Alice and turned back to the dwarves nearing them.

"Alice, it's time to do some witching," she said.

Alice smiled. "Oh goody."

Alice had acted as a focus for Esme's power before, and she knew this was what Esme was planning. Their combined power would be enough to cause whatever it was that Esme wanted to cause. Esme stood to the left of Alice and put her hands in front of her. Alice did the same and felt the tingling along her skin. It was Esme's power filling her up. Esme grabbed her hand, leaving her left hand facing forward. The power seeped from Alice and met a solid block in front of them.

"Push!" shouted Esme. Alice pushed her power forward, breaking the invisible wall. The power retreated when the first boulder smashed to the ground. Alice was still in a trance when it happened, so Esme pulled her down the corridor after her ex-estranged husband and her son.

The dwarves stepped back as the first boulder crashed. It was quickly followed by another, and another. Soon, the whole passageway was blocked.

Denny stepped forward. "I guess she was a witch after all," he said.

~*~

Carlisle reached the opening into daylight first. He was shortly followed by Edward. Alice and Esme came out a few seconds later. It was then that Carlisle realised that Alice was not in fact capable of walking by herself. Esme let go of her and she slid to the ground. Her eyes stared aimlessly into the distance.

"What happened?" Carlisle asked in concern.

"Power surge," said Esme. She checked Alice's pulse. It was steady.

"I find that cloves help," said Carlisle. Esme looked up.

"They do," she said.

"I'll go find some," Carlisle replied, then looked around. They were on a mountain.

Esme couldn't help but think that fate had stranded them on top of a mountain with Alice currently high. It was the perfect opportunity for Edward, Carlisle and Esme to talk. Carlisle clocked on quickly.

"Can't you fly Alice to safety?" he asked.

"Not whilst she's like this. You have to be completely conscious to fly on a broom."

"What if I magic up some rope?" asked Carlisle. Esme looked at him. She knew that as a wizard, he would understand the laws of physics. Matter cannot be created or destroyed.

"You really don't want to have this talk, do you?" she said.

Edward chose that moment to interrupt. "What talk?"

Esme cleared her throat. It was now or never. "Edward," she said as dramatically as she could in the given situation, "This is your father."

Edward's brow creased in sheer confusion. "My dad died, you said so."

"I lied."

Edward looked at Carlisle, who smiled. "You're my dad?"

"I'm afraid so," said Carlisle.

"Are you a wizard?" asked Edward.

"Yes," said Carlisle.

"Does that make me a wizard?" Edward had a wistful look about him.

"Maybe," said Carlisle.

Esme stood up then, swaying slightly from the sense of vertigo that hit her.

"No, no, no," she said. "Edward is not, and never will be, a wizard."

"Why not?" Edward and Carlisle asked in unison.

Esme decided now was the time to tell Carlisle everything. Some of it was even news to Edward.

"You poisoned Bella?!" he asked in disbelief.

"I had to," Esme said.

"But you poisoned her!"

Carlisle put his arm around Edward awkwardly. "Son, Bella will be fine, but she won't be if you keep getting your underpants in a twist. We go to visit Esme's friend and then we return."

This seemed to calm Edward. He took a deep breath and nodded.

Esme smiled. "I'll get some cloves," she said, before she hopped onto her improved broomstick.

Carlisle gave her a dirty look. She could have done that all along.

~*~

Back in the Kingdom of Forks, trouble was brewing.

"One hour!" shouted King Charles. "She has one hour to wake up or I write a warrant of execution for the witch!"

King Charles was walking up and down his daughter's bedroom. Mike Newton was stood in the corner shaking.

"Mike!" Mike jumped ten feet—well, almost.

"Yes, Your Greatness."

"Put some fresh towels on her head." Mike went straight to work as King Charles swept from the room.

He took the towels off Bella's head and brought the new towels over to the bed. As he walked, he tripped on something black and fluffy and went sailing through the air, towards the bed. The towels flew around the room and suddenly, his lips were pressed against Bella's.

Her eyes opened and were filled with shock. She screamed.

"What do you think you were doing?!" She got out of the bed, her arms flailing about like a flapping fish.

"I...err...I..."

"Get out, get out!" she screamed. Mike hurried out of the room, forgetting what had happened anyway.

Bella's screaming let King Charles know she was awake. He smiled and went out to greet the paparazzi.

One held a camera right next to his face. Flashing lights went off in all directions.

"King Charles, is it true that Bella is currently unconscious?"

"That is not true."

"Is that screaming?"

"King Charles, will Princes Harry and William be attending the ball?"

"That is enough questions." King Charles held up his hand and walked back inside.

"But, Charles, is it true that—"

He slammed and bolted the door. He knew there was a reason he left Jessica to the paparazzi. Thinking of Jessica, he wondered why she had not been serving dinner.

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**A/N: Review please!!! I would love to hear your thoughts!**

**...There may be a small teaser in it for you!**


	10. Chapter 10 The Cat's Familiar

**Disclaimer: All things Twilight belong to Stephenie Meyer. Of course.**

**Shoutouts: 1pepsi1obsessed, BerryEbilBunny, Lady Dragona, Mander13, LibraryChild and of course, the cat. You know the one I mean.**

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**Chapter 10 – The Cat's Familiar**

Waking up to see Mike Newton kissing her lips was not something Princess Bella wanted. So, like all princesses when faced with such a situation, she ran around the room screaming. The sound alerted the guards who ran in to see the girl running around. They shrugged in unison like a good troop and then went back to their posts.

When Bella felt calm enough, she tried to think. Her memories were coming back in small snippets. She remembered burning herself and going to Esme's, she also remembered using the ointment and falling asleep. The worst memory, however, was knowing that Edward had gone with the witches.

Bella needed Jessica. That thought made her wonder where Jessica was. It was very unlike Jessica to have a life of her own. She put on some clothes and hurried out of her bedroom. The corridors were starting to gather darkness and the sky outside the castle was now a royal blue colour. It suited Bella, or she thought it did.

She hurried down to the servants quarters and found Jessica's room. It was empty. She searched all the other servant rooms and still found no sign of Jessica.

"Meow!" The sound startled Bella. She looked down. Sooty was weaving between her legs, vying for her attention.

"Not now, Sooty, I'm looking for Jessica," she muttered. She decided the next place to look would be the kitchen.

Nanny Swan was in the kitchen, preparing food for the ball. She was humming as Bella entered.

"Hello, dear. Just making food preparations. Glad to see you awake." Bella nodded.

"Have you seen Jessica anywhere, Nanny?" she asked politely, not being able to deviate from the tone when she was around Nanny Swan, because it was Nanny Swan who had raised her.

Nanny Swan put down her knife and turned to Bella.

"Last time I saw her was when she was greeting the paparazzi about half an hour ago, but I wouldn't worry about her. She can take care of herself. Why don't you come and help Nanny?"

Bella paused, certain she saw something shift behind Nanny Swan's eyes.

"It's okay, Nanny, I really must be preparing for tomorrow evening," she replied and hurried out. Sooty was still following her, meowing as he went.

They walked down a corridor covered in tapestries and Sooty stopped to scratch one of them. Bella turned and picked Sooty up, knowing that her father would blow a casket if he found another ruined tapestry. He stopped meowing and sat in her arms with his head sticking out, watching the walls go past like an inquisitive child. He meowed when they passed a wooden door.

Bella paused.

"You were being nice and quiet then, what's wrong?"

"Meow!" His paw pointed to the door and he started struggling. Because Bella wasn't getting the hint—and because he felt like it—he bit her.

In an instant, Bella dropped Sooty, who did a backwards somersault in the air and landed on his feet by the door. He started scratching at it.

"You can't go for a wee through that one, it leads down to the dungeons," said Bella.

"Meow!" Sooty continued to scratch at the door.

Like all good cat owners are supposed to, Bella walked back up the corridor and tried to ignore Sooty. Sooty didn't like that. He stopped clawing the door and galloped down the corridor. He liked to pretend he was a horse on occasion. When he reached Bella's long, flowing skirt, he dived on it. He'd had much practice with rats and skirts alike and easily got himself up onto Bella's shoulder.

"Meow!" he said when he caught Bella's attention.

"I hate cats," she said to him. In response, he hissed at her and jumped off her shoulder. This time he did an acrobatic star jump in the air before landing on his feet. He galloped down the corridor to the wooden door again and looked at Bella.

"Meow!"

In the Kingdom of Forks, they didn't have televisions so Bella had never had the opportunity to watch 'Skippy' or 'Lassie' or 'Flipper' therefore she had no idea that kangaroos, dogs and dolphins could go on rescue missions. Bella had, however, read 'The Cat in the Hat' and was aware that cats could have human personalities.

"You want me to go through the door," she said. Sooty gave her a disapproving look--the one he gave everyone--and twisted his head so he could lick his bum.

By the time Bella opened the door, Sooty had also cleaned his ears. Why he did them in that order, we'll never know.

Sooty hurried ahead through the dark passageway, although it wasn't too dark. The torches had been lit. It gave Bella an eerie feeling. Someone had been down to the dungeons recently. Bella followed the black shadow of Sooty until he stopped outside the torture chamber. Bella's heart was pounding and she could taste metal on her tongue. She was afraid that zombies would come out of the darkness and eat her. She'd seen a re-enactment of it once, although she knew that for it to be re-enacted it actually had to have happened.

The keys to open the chamber were hanging on an iron nail above the door. Bella picked up the keys and heard a muffled sound from inside the chamber.

"Jessica?" she whispered shakily.

There was another muffled noise.

Bella started using the keys in the lock, hoping that one of them would open the door, although she was frightened of what she might find in the room.

Jessica was on the other side of the door, pulling at her arms and begging them to be free. Nanny Swan had paid her another visit and found her trying to get to the knife she had dropped. As a result, Nanny Swan had blindfolded and gagged Jessica and left.

Bella found the key she needed and the lock clicked open. She pulled down the brass handle and pushed open the heavy door. She gasped when she saw Jessica. Sooty followed her in and went searching for rats.

Bella picked up one of the knives and cut off the blindfold. The first thing Jessica saw was the blade. She let out a muffled scream before she saw Bella's face. Bella took off the gag and got a pair of pliers for Jessica's hands. Who said Princesses weren't resourceful?

"She's going to poison...prince to become king...her grandson..."

"You're making no sense," Bella said as she tried to take most of Jessica's weight and lead her to the door. They got out of the chamber and Bella locked the door again. Sooty had already got himself out.

Footsteps echoed down the corridor.

"Other way," mumbled Jessica. Bella started walking further down the corridor which turned to the right to lead onto the dungeons.

Bella tripped on one of the stones and dropped Jessica before she fell to the ground. When she next looked up, a figure was standing above her.

"Curiosity killed the cat," said Nanny Swan.

~*~

Alice woke up as soon as she caught the scent of the clove. She smiled at Esme and said, "That was some Cheese String."

Esme sighed and turned to Edward and Carlisle.

"Do you think you can get my son safely to the ground with that thing?" she asked, pointing to the staff.

"Of course I can, woman, this staff is in fine working order. He struck it against the ground and the symbols reappeared. He grabbed his son and they disappeared.

Alice jumped onto Esme's broomstick and they zoomed towards the ground. For the first time since Esme had acquired the broom, she put it into fifth gear. It even had power steering.

They got off at the bottom of the mountain and met up with Edward and Carlisle.

"Esme, you're broom is much better now," said Alice.

"Thank you, Alice," said Esme.

"But it could do with a few minor improvements." Esme scowled at Alice.

"What minor improvements?" she asked.

"Well, some bells for a start..."

They walked towards the forest where Alice had left her broomstick. She opened up to her power and listened to the trees for information of where her broomstick was. The patch of moss was barely four metres away. Alice called to her broom and felt it in her hands before she opened her eyes. The four of them walked on through the forest, well aware that it was barely twenty four hours until the ball.

"Are we going to start flying yet?" asked Edward, although he wasn't overly keen on either method of transport his parents offered.

"In a minute," said Esme, "We've got to pay the toll charge first."

They walked through the expanse of trees and came to a stone bridge that crossed a large river. Various means of transport were stopping at the bridge and paying the charge. The witches, wizard and pre-prince pushed into the line. They were stood behind a gang of thieves. The queue had stopped.

Esme tapped the shoulder of a burly-looking man who had 'thug' tattooed across his forehead. No, he really did—and she asked, "What seems to be the hold up?"

The thug turned to Esme and in a high, womanly voice said, "Well, there's this brawd arguing with the troll about the fee and the troll won't let them through because you have to be accompanied by an adult to cross the bridge and they both look like children."

Esme rolled up her sleeves and handed her broomstick to Edward.

"Alice," she said. Alice looked up from wherever it was she was looking.

"Yes, Esme?" she asked.

"We have some work to do." Alice kept hold of her broomstick and walked through the waiting figures.

When they got to the front, they saw a boy who was wearing a green outfit, tights and a hat. The girl with him was about six inches tall and hovering in the air. She was a fairy.

Esme walked up to the troll. "What's going on?" she asked.

The troll scratched his chin. "These minors want to cross the bridge and I haven't got a clue what the chicky is trying to say."

Esme gave the boy a long look. "Don't I know you?" she asked.

"I'm not sure," he said, "I meet a lot of people in their childhoods."

"Yes, you took me on my first flying lesson. Broke my heart when I couldn't go on any more. Well, I'm a witch now, and I have a broomstick to fly me places."

"It has five gears and power steering," interrupted Alice.

The boy raised his eyebrows. "Does it have bells on it?"

Esme made an abrasive sound. The boy turned his attention back to Esme.

"I remember you now. You were the one that locked Tinker in a box." Esme nodded. Tinker, well, she tinked.

"Anyway, I'm not here for none of that now, I'm here to get this line moving." She turned to the troll. "I can assure you that this boy here is old enough to be my granddad."

"What about the girl? I need confirmation from her."

Tinker tinked angrily.

"I can't understand a word she's saying," said the troll.

"Maybe I can," said Alice. She stepped forward with her broomstick. It started twinkling now that people were looking at it.

Tinker looked at Alice in disdain and crossed her tiny arms. She started glowing and glitter fell to the ground.

Alice tried to communicate. She shook her broom. "Twinkle, twinkle."

Tinker stamped her foot. "Tink!"

"Twinkle?"

"Tink, tink, tink!"

Alice turned back to the troll. "Well, sir, she thinks your service has been awful and she's been trying to explain to you that she is a fairy and therefore does not age. She is offering fairy dust as payment for the toll charge."

"Right, okay then." The troll accepted the fairy dust, which he put in his pocket, and the boy and fairy crossed the bridge. The line started moving again.

Alice and Esme got back into their place in the line. Esme turned to Alice.

"You got all that from rattling your broom?" she asked.

"Oh, yes," said Alice. "It's simple when you know how."

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**A/N: What did you think of that chapter? Reviews are greatly appreciated!**

**Oh, and I'm thinking of ordering some of those CheeseStrings Alice had...they sound like fun...**


	11. Chapter 11 Flight Returns

**Disclaimer: All things Twilight belong to Stephenie Meyer!**

**Thank you for last chapters reviews! I'd do a shout out but my hands are shaking with fatigue!**

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**Chapter 11 – Flight Returns**

"You're not going to hurt the cat, are you?" asked Jessica. Both her and Bella were kneeling on the floor beneath Nanny Swan.

Nanny Swan gave them both a wide smile. "No, not the cat," she mused.

Bella felt like her life couldn't get any worse now, yet it seemed to be declining as each second passed.

"You do realise, I cannot let you both escape me now for fear of what you tell Charlie, but it would be extremely suspicious if Bella does not attend the ball. There are many ways to deal with all of this, but the correct way to deal with it is like this."

Nanny Swan grabbed Jessica by her arm and forced her into the closest cell before she slammed the iron bars shut. She locked the door and grabbed Bella by her hair. Bella gasped at the pain but refused to scream. If she was to be a monarch, she had to show her courage and defiance.

The next cell was opened and Bella was forced into it. Nanny Swan locket the door and tucked the keys into the folds of her skirt. Bella wondered what else she was hiding up there.

"I have some business to attend to, girls, but I will be back shortly." The words hung in the air as Nanny Swan disappeared down the corridor. The sound of the heavy door being shut and bolted filled the dungeon.

Bella stood up at ran to the bars nearest Jessica. "Tell me everything," she demanded.

Tears were streaking down Jessica's cheeks. She gulped and nodded before she began.

"Nanny Swan has a daughter somewhere who has also had a son. She wants that son to marry you. But that's not the worst of it. She plans to kill Charlie and then kill you, leaving her grandson free to rule the Kingdom of Forks."

Bella's eyes had widened to the point that if they widened anymore, her eyeballs might fall out.

"But I'm her granddaughter! Charlie is her son!" The exasperation was clear in her voice.

"No, not by flesh and blood you aren't," replied Jessica, who was being extremely direct and had forgotten her place. Bella couldn't blame her though, so much had already happened.

"She's Charlie's stepmother," muttered Bella as realisation dawned on her like an eager sun. She knew enough about fairytales to know that stepmother's could not be trusted.

"What do you propose we do?" asked Jessica. Bella bit her lip in consideration. If she was to become a queen, she would have to decide on courses of action every day. This was just a taste of what was to come.

She didn't like it, but she thought on it.

"We take things one step at a time," she said, "Firstly, we get out of here."

"What if we can't?" asked Jessica.

"We'll come to that if it happens." Jessica nodded and turned away. Bella looked at the bars that surrounded her. They were too narrowly spaced for them to squeeze out of and the iron was too strong to bend. The back wall, the ceiling and the floor were made out of stone and there was only one set of keys, that had left in Nanny Swan's many folds of skirt.

Bella felt like bashing her head against the wall, but she didn't. She was fully aware of what would break first.

Hope seemed to have left them both and the story was beginning to play how it was made to play, not how it wanted to. But like all stories, meddling was soon to result in catastrophe.

~*~

Nanny Swan moved quickly through the castle corridors. Red carpet lined the centre of the floor, muffling the sound of her hurrying footsteps. The food that she could prepare had been dealt with and everything was on course, apart from the sudden hitch that had come in the shape of a princess and a maid—and possibly a cat.

She turned down another corridor and came face-to-face with a portrait. This portrait was of a former king. He was sat on the throne looking proud and his eyes glared at Nanny Swan's, as if telling her that what she was doing was unacceptable. Nanny didn't mind. That king was long dead and the eyes staring at her were blobs of paint on a canvas. She unhooked a pin at one side of the portrait and pushed it aside, revealing a secret passageway.

Nanny Swan knew of the passageway because her former husband had told her—before he died. He was one of three husbands she had buried and at least two of them were dead when she had buried them.

The corridor was dank and had the smell of a man's urinal. She pinched the end of her nose and hurried through the darkness, which was closing in on her, along with the walls. Just when she believed she would get stuck, the tunnel opened out into a room. The room held a desk, chair, carpet and a fireplace. She went straight to the desk and pulled out a single item. This item was a mirror.

She set it in front of her and whispered the name of her daughter into the reflective glass. The air around her grew colder than it already was, but the smell of urine was replaced by that of light rain and roses. The colour of the mirror changed to a milky opal and revealed a face. Nanny Swan smiled.

"Nanny," said the figure. "How are the arrangements going?"

"They are going well, but we have a minor problem and I can't help but notice you smashed the other mirror."

"I did smash it, Nanny, but I can fix it when I'm ready to. Now, the problem, how minor is it?" Impatience fluttered in the air.

"Not very. Bella is aware of the plan and I have come to you for help."

"Many people come to me for help, Nanny, and I usually refuse them unless it helps me. This does help me, and you are my mother. I'll need her blood at midnight. I can perform a spell on her that will keep her under my will until the ball is over and her father is dead. But I will need the blood at midnight. It gives you one hour."

"She shall be here in an hour, daughter." Nanny Swan turned away from the mirror. It went milky and then became an ordinary mirror. Nanny Swan was back on track.

~*~

Eventually, Carlisle, Edward, Esme and Alice got to the front of the line. The troll looked them up and down and let Esme and Alice pass without paying the fee. He demanded double from Carlisle though.

"But that's ridiculous!" shouted Carlisle. "I'm the High Warlock!"

"Means nothing to me, Sir," said the troll, who was already counting dollar bills.

In anger, Carlisle stamped his staff against the ground, but he hadn't commanded it to do anything.

The troll looked up. "I'll take the walking stick as payment."

Carlisle went visibly red. "This is not a walking stick!" he exclaimed.

"Looks like one to me, Sir," said the troll.

Esme and Alice were watching on in amusement. It infuriated Carlisle that they weren't helping, but he also deduced that he didn't require the help of a woman. Edward was stood nervously to his left.

Then, three things happened at once. A monkey appeared to drop from the sky and land on the trolls head, Edward fell off the bridge into the water and the fairy dust in the troll's pocket spilled out onto the troll.

Both the troll and Edward were screaming, both needing help. The flying monkey landed on Carlisle's shoulder, pleased with itself.

"It's about time you showed up," Carlisle berated.

"EE, AA," said the monkey.

"I don't care if you found a flying elephant, what's important now is that you get my son out of that water." The flying monkey swooped down to the water and plucked Edward out and dropped him on the bank at the other side of the river. Carlisle walked across the bridge and joined him.

Esme and Alice were sat on the bridge, eating Cheese Strings as they watched the flying troll like it was entertainment.

"Beats the theatre," said Alice.

"Now this is action," said Esme.

Carlisle used his staff to dry Edward's clothes. Edward had to sit on the bank in his underwear as Carlisle waved his clothes around on the end of his staff.

Some of the girls who had been waiting in the line behind them started oohing and aahing on the sat of a half naked man.

Tinkerbell had given the troll enough fairy dust for a five minute flight. That five minutes was about to end in three, two, one...

"Gah!" The troll splashed into the water beneath him, getting Esme and Alice wet at the same time. Now it was Carlisle and Edward who were laughing.

Grudgingly, Alice and Esme crossed the bridge and walked up to them.

"I can dry those for you?" said Carlisle, pointing to Esme's clothing. Esme looked at Edward's t-shirt on the end of Carlisle's staff. She was not amused.

"No thank you," she said, then suddenly, as if by magic—which was, in fact, used—her clothes were dry—if a bit crinkled.

Esme turned to Alice. "I always struggle with my ironing," she said.

"It's understandable, Esme," replied Alice, before she dried her own clothes in a very different way. She hovered above the ground and then began to twirl like a ballerina.

Her twirls started to become faster, until it was like a tornado was on the river bank. Air swirled around Esme, who was the closest to Alice, before it subsided. Alice landed on her two feet, but her hair now resembled a messy bird's nest and her cloak had knotted itself. Strangely, the rest of her clothes were crease-free.

Esme turned to Carlisle. "I'm getting her to do my ironing in future." Carlisle mumbled in agreement.

Once Edward was dressed, Alice and Esme mounted their brooms and Edward and Carlisle gripped Carlisle's staff. They levitated into the air until they became level with the witches and then the staff zoomed towards the horizon. The flying monkey trailed behind them.

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**A/N: Any thoughts? Send me a review!**


	12. Chpter12 A Captain Never Leaves His Ship

**Disclaimer: All things Twilight belong to Stephenie Meyer!**

**Thank you for last chapter's reviews! They were greatly appreciated!**

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**Chapter 12 – A Captain Never leaves his Ship**

"Bella?" asked Jessica. Bella's head snapped up and then her gaze followed the direction of Jessica's voice.

"Yes?" she said.

"Do you think we'll die down here?"

It's a possibility, thought Bella. "No," she lied.

"Good, because I'm too young to die. There's so much I haven't done yet. I haven't even learnt how to knit. You have to know how to knit before you die."

Bella thought this was ridiculous, but she knew very little about the afterlife, so she couldn't really argue that you didn't need to know how to knit, because you might.

"Why?" she asked Jessica.

"I don't know why. I just know that a lot of people who die know how to knit." Jessica sounded so sure of herself.

Yes, because a lot of people who die are little old grannies, thought Bella. She wished her nanny was an average granny, because then, instead of killing people, she'd have a healthier hobby. Such as knitting.

"I thought that you needed to be able to fly," stated another voice that made Bella almost jump out of her skin. Her heart was beating erratically.

When she turned around, she saw a figure stood up in one of the cells further down the corridor. From the distance, Bella could make out his outline and see small bits of his body in the low lighting. Half of his body was still set in darkness.

"Hello," said Jessica in a polite tone. It made Bella think higher of Jessica for not losing her nerve despite what had happened.

"Hi," replied the figure. His voice was accented, but Bella didn't know where he was from. She just knew that he wasn't from Forks.

"Why would we need to know how to fly?" interrupted Bella with her curiosity.

"Well, your soul needs to fly up to heaven. If you don't know how to fly, then you're going to fall into hell."

Bella preferred Jessica's idea of knitting. It seemed safer.

"Who are you, anyway?" asked Bella, standing as she did so. She walked to the front of her cell slowly, as if sudden movements might cause the person to transform into something demonic with a preference for princesses.

"A thief, my good lady." He bowed, keeping his eyes upturned and in contact with Bella's. She thought it was polite.

"So this is why you're in here?" Bella tilted her head to one side.

"It is," he said. "I'm stuck in here with an old carpet." He stepped to the side, revealing a dust-covered piece of carpet that had definitely seen better days, but those better days had not been in the dungeon.

Bella felt her memory stirring and the sound of her heart and the ringing in her ears let her know that there was something important here that she had missed.

"I've seen a carpet like that," said Jessica, "It was in the weaponry."

Bella felt herself slipping into a memory.

Bella was five years old and both she and Jessica had snuck out of the nursery when Nanny Swan left to deal with one of the servants. Nanny Swan was good at getting jobs done. They ran up the corridors, unsure of where they were going. A castle is a big place for anyone and was much larger to the both of them—just like a supermarket to a lost child.

Footsteps echoed up the corridor and Bella knew it was Nanny Swan. If she found them, they would be in big trouble for disobeying her.

"In here," whispered Jessica. There was a frantic edge to her voice that made Bella hurry into the room.

They shut the door and pulled down the wooden bar, locking themselves in the room and Nanny Swan out. Bella still worried that Nanny Swan might be able to get in. She was larger than some of the soldiers.

Jessica gasped, causing Bella to look at the room for the first time. Suits of armour lined one wall. Some of them were old, old enough that they had become rusted. Time was something that even metal could not escape. There were swords and epees and huge spiked lances on another wall. Most of the weapons had spikes on them. Scattered all over the place were dangerous looking weapons that called to Bella to touch them, but she didn't. The sound of bells made her look at Jessica, who was trying to get herself into some chainmail.

"You don't put it on like that," said Bella bossily.

"How do I put it on then?" Jessica snapped back.

Bella stepped forward and both she and Jessica were stood on the same piece of carpet with the chainmail.

Bella yanked on a piece of the chainmail. "Let go!" she shouted, seeing Jessica's hand gripping it firmly. Suddenly, both children were levitating above the ground. They screamed and the startled carpet dropped to the ground, becoming the inanimate object that it was supposed to be.

Bella opened her eyes. She was back in the dungeon, behind bars of iron, staring at the same carpet covered in an inch of dust. She was certain it was the same carpet.

"Brush the dust off it," she said eagerly. The thief gave her a puzzled look but went back to the carpet and started to wipe away the inch of grime. He wiped it on his pants. Bella could see the burgundy of the carpet more easily now and the gold tassels that lined it. There were even the green swirls that adorned the centre of it. She beamed, not able to control her features with her sudden relief.

"Oh my God!" exclaimed Jessica, "It's here!"

"Do any of you mind explaining to me why you both look so...happy?" asked the thief. He scratched his head. His hair was curly and ink black and almost covered his eyes.

"You'll get the gist of it as we go along," said Bella impatiently before she crouched by the door of her cell.

"Carpet," she called in a soothing voice. "Carpet, wake up, please."

The thief was staring at the carpet, which hadn't moved. He wondered if Bella had gone insane. It happened when girls were locked in scary, dark places. It was why this sort of thing was usually left to the men (and witches).

"No, it has to be a command, like the day in the armoury," said Jessica. "Something like, 'Carpet, wake up, now!"

Nothing happened and a steady wave of silence followed. That silence was then broken.

"Well, that was a bright idea," Bella said dryly.

Jessica's brow scrunched up in confusion, but then smoothed out when another idea had come to her.

"It was you who shouted at it last time," she said.

Bella gave it a go, despite her doubts. They didn't have a better plan anyway, in fact, they had no other plan.

"Carpet! I demand that you wake up, right now!" Bella's voice echoed through the dungeon and the air grew suddenly warmer. It prickled against her skin like warm fur that made her shiver.

"Bella, Bella, look!" Jessica said in elation. She was pointing to the thief's cell and the carpet that was now standing upright, using two of its corners as legs. It coughed to rid of the rest of the dust that covered it. Bella smiled despite the sight being so weird.

As if on cue, Sooty slinked out of the darkness, carrying a set of keys between his two remaining fangs. The other fangs were embedded into the skull of a bull terrier who thought it was okay to bark at him. Let's just say that it won't be barking anymore.

He walked tall, proud of himself as his little kitty mind replayed his heroic feat.

Nanny Swan was rushing towards the door that led out of the corridor. Her skirts were larger and thicker than Bella's and therefore easier for Sooty to climb up. He reached Nanny's waist and hooked a claw around the metal ring that held the keys. He did one of his best forward somersaults to the ground, paused for the invisible gymnastic judges who gave him a perfect score, then he hurried backwards up the corridor, pausing to tell a mouse about his adventure as he tortured it. When it was no longer moving, he got bored, remembered the keys and galloped to the rescue of the maid who gave him cream and the princess who gave him a warm bed.

Who said cats don't appreciate comfort?

Sooty strutted up to Bella's cell and started rubbing his side against the bars, finding this comfortable, he rolled onto his back and rubbed himself against the stone floor, curving his spine in a way that humans would find impossible. Bella tried to grab the keys from him, but he batted a paw at her. She could damn well wait until he was finished.

"Sooty, we haven't got time for this. There's a sardine in it if you give me the keys." Sooty liked sardines and so he weighed up his options. He dropped the keys by the bars and went to the corner where he could watch the theatrics and clean himself at the same time.

Bella fumbled with the keys, found the one she needed and opened her cell. She then opened Jessica's and the thief's, although she was sure she shouldn't have let the thief out.

"Bella, we can't just walk out into the castle, you know what will happen if Nanny Swan sees us."

Bella was already running up the corridor. She reached the door and opened it. Jessica, the thief, the carpet and Sooty followed. She felt like a pied piper.

"Stop!" shouted a voice that made Bella freeze in terror. Nanny Swan was running towards them.

"Escape!" Bella shouted to the others.

"Bella, we can't leave you here!"

"You haven't got a choice in the matter, go, now!" Jessica jumped onto the carpet along with the thief and Sooty, who was missing flying on Esme's broomstick, and they zoomed off through an open window into the dark night.

Bella stood in front of Nanny Swan, whose wig was crooked from the sprint and her face was red in rage.

"You, girl, are coming with your nanny right now!" Bella didn't argue. She followed Nanny Swan down a passageway she had never been before.

She trusted Jessica to stop Nanny Swan's plans and she also trusted herself to be able to do the same if she got the chance. She didn't run from Nanny because it gave the others a chance to escape, but it was also a test she set herself. A queen wouldn't run away, she would face the music and dance, but failing that, she would at least shuffle. Bella found that she was doing neither. She was being dragged down a black corridor. The principal, however, was there.

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**A/N: Read and review!!!!**


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